Horror on the Hill
by Sir Brodequin le Noire
Summary: A group of heroes (human fighter, goblin magic-user, dwarf cleric, human thief, halfling bard) brave the Hill, a place of ancient legend and nameless terrors, to rescue a young dwarf who disappeared while exploring the Hill's dangerous slopes. Will they succeed, or will they perish in the attempt? For no one who ever walks the Hill's haunted slopes lives to tell the tale.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

For those of you interested in the 'stats' of our heroes, I have included them here. This story was written using "The Horror on the Hill" Basic Dungeons and Dragons adventure module B5, with Advanced Dungeons and Dragons 1st edition rules.

Those knowledgeable in these rules will notice areas where I have strayed from them (such as giving the heroes maximum hit points per level, and having a goblin magic-user and a halfling bard). Other than that, I have attempted to stay true to the AD&D rules.

This book was written as an actual D&D playing session. I wrote the book as I played the game, taking on all the roles myself. Very little was altered from what actually happened in the game, and what was altered was for plot purposes only, such as the removal of most wandering monsters, and gold and silver coins found on humanoid bodies. I always felt it was ridiculous for a goblin to have a belt pouch with a few coins in it. They live in caves! Where are they going to spend it? Is there a goblin general store nearby?

I thought it would be interesting to write this story "as it happened", so to speak, so it reads as more of a documentary, or a "fictional non-fiction".

\- Peter J. LaPlante, October 2016

 **OUR HEROES**

 **Deft Bladehaft** , human fighter, level - 3, alignment - Lawful Good, Hit Points - 30, Armor Class - 5, STR 15, DEX14, CON 12, INT 13, WIS 16, CHA 14

 **Bloom** , human thief, level - 3, alignment - Neutral, Hit Points - 18, Armor Class - 6, STR 15, DEX 16, CON 13, INT 11, WIS 7, CHA 11

 **Runt** , goblin magic-user, level - 3, alignment: Neutral Good, Hit Points - 15, Armor Class - 8, STR 12, DEX 15, CON 16, INT 16, WIS 10, CHA 14

 **Sir Ganth Glintspear** , dwarf cleric, level - 3, alignment - Lawful Good, Hit Points - 27, Armor Class -1, STR 13, DEX 12, CON 15, INT 11, WIS 17, CHA 14

 **Twix Relkin** , halfling bard, level - 3, alignment - Neutral Good, Hit Points - 24, Armor Class - 6, STR 9, DEX 18, CON 16, INT 13, WIS 6, CHA 15


	2. Chapter 1 (Money for Something)

**HORROR ON THE HILL**

 _Fort Gaston. The end of the Trader's Road._

 _Perched along the banks of the mighty River Shrill, this isolated frontier settlement was the last stop on the caravan routes. The mile-wide river was all that separated the Fort from the shadowy bulk known only as the Hill, a land of nameless terrors and ancient legend._

 _The fog-shrouded crests and densely wooded slopes of the Hill rose four hundred feet, looming ominously over the tiny settlement. On clear days, the Hill's rocky cliffs could be seen jutting from its bulky mass, but the view was usually obscured by gouts of steam that seem to rise from outlets on the Hill itself._

 _This mysterious mountain has long been rumored to shelter bands of vicious monsters. Only the awesome waters of the Shrill have prevented the monsters from invading the undermanned fort. Several groups of brave and hardy adventurers have crossed the river to explore The Hill's summits and face the wicked monsters, but none of these bands was ever heard from again._

 _Now a new group of eager adventurers has met in one of the inns at Fort Gaston. It is here that the adventurers discuss their own daring plans to explore the dangerous mountain._

Deft Bladehaft walked stiffly out of the back room of the Lion's Den Inn, running his fingers through his tangled mane of black hair. It had been a long and uncomfortable night sleeping in the back room on a straw pallet, surrounded by other wayfarers, some of whom snored loudly. It had cost the fighter one silver coin for the privilege, and he hardly felt it worth the cost. Now his ankles itched fiercely. He wouldn't be surprised if the place was infested with fleas or bedbugs. It was a bad start to an important day, and Deft hoped that wasn't a bad omen.

The man stood five inches shorter than a full six feet, and his body was lean and muscular. He was fully clad in his adventuring gear, which consisted of a chain mail shirt, and a long sword in a sheath strapped across his back. He wore sturdy, leather boots and a green, hooded cloak. Across his back was strapped a long bow and quiver of yellow-feathered arrows. He carried his bulging backpack, which contained food, water, and other items necessary to the life of a professional adventurer.

The common room of the Lion's Den Inn was filled with many worn benches and tables. A bar ran along nearly the length of the northern wall, and a large fireplace sat in the center of the western wall. Candles and oil lamps hung from the rafters or the walls, but these were never lit during the daylight hours. The place smelled of smoke, sweat, and alcohol, which Deft conceded to himself was a typical smell for an inn, even for such a backwater place as this.

The common room was quiet and empty now, this early in the morning, but Deft heard someone whistling and bustling around in the kitchen behind the bar, most likely the innkeep.

The previous night, the inn had teemed with sweaty, drunken locals. Deft had parked himself on a rickety stool and the bar and talked with the innkeep most of the night, learning what he could about this mysterious Hill, and the summons the fighter had read back in his home town of Verdun that had sent him this far south down to the frontier and Gaston's Fort.

As far as the summons, the innkeep, whose name was Norbert, had said that the nephew of a local dwarf priest had gone exploring over on the Hill, against his father's wishes, and had not returned. The dwarf's name was Sir Ganth Glintspear, and it was he who had sent out the summons to the neighboring towns. His aim was to raise a rescue party as soon as possible, cross the Shrill River, and rescue his nephew. Deft had asked about the reward, an incredible five hundred gold pieces, and Norbert had assured him that the dwarf was good for it, coming as he did from an ancient, noble, and rich family. Deft hadn't revealed that he would have joined this expedition even if the payment had been nil. A lot of people seemed to think the fighter's sense of morality and honor was a running joke, and they loved nothing better than to tease him about it.

The innkeep had told fantastic stories about the Hill, saying that a bubbling lake of lava lay below its craggy surface. He had also told horrid tales of man-eating ghouls that prowled the Hill, ceaselessly searching for victims. Norbert had figured this was the reason none of the adventuring parties who crossed the Shrill ever returned. The innkeep had pointed to a corner of the common room, where an old man with white hair sat alone at a small table, calmly drinking from a clay mug.

"That's the Old Timer, we calls 'im. He knows all about the Hill. Go talk to him."

Deft had done just that. They had drunk together for an hour, and the fighter had wisely paid the tab, to keep the old man's memories flowing. He had heard all kinds of fantastic and dubious stories from the mouth of the Old Timer.

"Many centuries ago, an old monastery was located on top of the Hill. Now there graveyards of that abandoned place are haunted by the spirits of the long-dead clerics."

"A fire-breathing dragon lives in the caves beneath the Hill."

"A band of slave-trading ogres is using the Hill as a base for forays into the civilized lands."

"An evil magic-user lives on the Hill. Her house appears to be a small hut, but in reality is an extravagant palace where she keeps the tortured souls of all who have trespassed on the slopes of the Hill."

"A huge bugbear army is entrenched on the Hill, waiting for orders to begin a massive assault on Fort Gaston."

By the end of the evening, his head was spinning, and not just from the plethora of tall tales. He had stumbled off to bed, collapsing on one of the dirty, available pallets in the back room.

Deft went and sat at one of the tables near the fire, which was blazing brightly. He put his gear under the table, and wondered when the others, if any, would arrive. The summons had informed all interested parties to be present at the Lion's Den on this morning, one hour after dawn. That time was fast approaching.

As the fighter waited, he heard the sounds of something frying in the kitchen, and soon smelled the delicious aroma of eggs, bacon, and coffee. Soon, Norbert appeared, boisterously wishing him a hearty good morrow. He quickly set the largest table in the common room with mugs of coffee and ale, a basket of warmed bread, a bowl of apples and pears, three different wheels of cheese, a crock of steaming oatmeal, a platter of smoked bacon, and a covered pewter bowl presumably containing the eggs. Deft's mouth began to water. He hadn't had this good a breakfast in years.

Without waiting for any other adventurers to arrive, the fighter set to, and had just finished up his meal with a flourish when the door to the inn opened. Deft looked up into the faces of a female human and a male goblin.

The woman was about his height and slight of build, with large, lovely green eyes. Her hair was reddish brown, and shaved nearly to the scalp. A scar ran across one corner of her forehead to her eyebrow. She was clad in a cuirass of leather, and a short sword and two daggers hung from the belt at her waist. Fine boots of the softest leather adorned her tiny feet.

The goblin at her side was tall for a goblin, almost three and a half feet. His skin was a dull orange, and his watery eyes yellow. He had no hair, and wore a perpetual hangdog expression on his froglike face. He was clad in simple, gray commoner's garb, with a belt at his waist from which hung several bulging pouches and a dagger. He clutched a gnarly staff in one long hand, which he now leaned upon as he surveyed the interior of the inn.

They both wore packs on their backs, which marked them as travelers. The woman's eyes swept the room quickly, ending on Deft's face. She strode forward confidently, moving with an easy grace. Her eyes locked on the fighter's eyes, and her hand shot out across the table as she reached it.

Deft wiped his greasy hand on his breeches and rose, extending his hand to the woman. Her grip was strong and hard. Her lovely eyes seemed to bore into his soul.

"You Ganth Glintspear?"

"No, I'm not. I am Deft Bladehaft of Verdun, at your service. Ganth is the dwarf that is looking for aid. Are you here answering his summons?"

The woman laughed. "Maybe! Won't know the answer to that until I know if the offer of five hundred golds is legitimate. Seems too good to be true. And you know what they say about that."

The goblin grinned and nodded his head. He spoke in a squeaky, whiny voice. "If it seems too good to be true, then it probably is."

The woman smiled down at the goblin. "That's right, Runt. That's our credo, or at least one of many. This is quite the spread! This dwarf seems to have gone all out. He's _got_ to be rich. But we'll find out, won't we?"

The pair went to the table, returning soon with their plates full. They sat next to each other, across the table from the fighter.

"By the way, my name is Bloom. And this is Runt. We're from Evreux."

"Pleased to meet you. Bloom is pretty name. I've not heard that one before."

"Well, it's short for Blue Monday, but no one calls me that." She grinned menacingly. "No one who wants to live a long and happy life, that is."

The fighter laughed nervously. He couldn't tell if she was joking or not. She seemed a tough customer, but it could be mostly for show. Although anyone brave enough to seriously entertain the thought of going over to the Hill had to be either tough, insane, or notoriously stupid. Deft wondered which category he fell into.

The door opened again, and the fighter looked up. A dwarf entered the inn, presumably the one who had sent out the summons, Sir Ganth Glintspear. He stood a little over four feet tall, with a medium-length black beard and short black hair that he wore combed back from his forehead. He wore a cuirass of Ganth armor, and leaned on a mace, the head of which was carved into the shape of a huge fist. In his left hand he carried a round, black, wooden shield, decorated with the device of a green dragon head. Around his neck hung a round holy symbol, depicting a pair of hands. Deft recognized it as the symbol of Ametrine, the Mother Goddess.

Bloom and Runt turned around to regard the newcomer. He spoke from the doorway in a loud, gravelly voice.

"I am Sir Ganth Glintspear, cleric of Ametrine and Knight of the Order of the Green Dragon. I am he who sent out the summons. Are you here to respond?"

"We are," Deft said, rising again from his chair. The dwarf stomped over to them on his heavy boots, and introductions were made all around. The dwarf wasted no time in getting his breakfast, and he plopped down on the seat next to Deft. He stuffed his face while he talked, nearly choking in the process. Every now and then he washed down his food with a hearty pull from his clay mug of ale.

"So, my new friends, I have called you all here to offer you a job. You see, my nephew, Gareth, got it into his fool head last week to steal a boat and go across the river, to explore the slopes of the Hill. Now, it is not entirely his fault. His moronic friend Cullen probably talked him into it. Gareth is a fine young lad, he is just easily impressionable, among his other faults. Now, you all might think this is some picnic or Holyday stroll, but I assure you it is not. If you do not know about the Hill, then I shall be happy to tell you all about it. It is an evil place. No one who has ever gone over there has ever come back. And I mean no one. I am not exaggerating when I say that. So I have little hope for my poor nephew, but I must at least try to learn his fate. The Hill is rumored to be infested with undead, bugbears, ogres, and a hideous magic-user who likes nothing better than to roast people alive and eat them. That is why I am offering the sum of five hundred gold pieces to the group who helps me brings back the body of my nephew, either dead or alive, or proof of whatever fate has befallen him.

"To get across the Hill, I have a boat down at the docks that we can use. The river is a mile wide, so a boat is the only way to get there and back again, unless you want to try swimming. We shall be leaving this morning, in an hour, if you three are amenable to the terms. I just want to wait to see if more adventurers shall be joining us. Three was not the number I had hoped for. Now, I can answer any of your questions. I have some of my own, as well."

Bloom grinned disarmingly at the dwarf. "My dear Master Glintspear, if no one has ever returned from an expedition to this Hill, then how do you account for all these rumors of bugbears and such?"

The dwarf glared at her, nearly choking on a mouthful of eggs. "Well, I do not believe _all_ these rumors are true. Most of them are probably nothing more than tall tales. But whether they are or not, the fact remains that nobody who has gone across that river has ever returned. At least not to Fort Gaston. I should know. I have lived here all my life."

"Perhaps they left by another route," said Deft. "I find it hard to believe that _no one_ has ever returned. Although I was talking to an old man last night they call the Old Timer, and he told me some pretty incredible stories."

"I don't know what is across the river," the dwarf said softly. "The only thing I know for sure is that my kin has gone across to the Hill, and he has been missing for a week. I am going over there to find him, alone if I have to. But I would rather have a band of stalwarts at my back. Speaking of, what are your qualifications? What are you, Bladehaft, a bard or something?"

The fighter smiled. "No, I'm afraid not. Just a simple fighter. But I have experience in the ways of my blade. I've been adventuring in these lands for the past five years."

The dwarf nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer. His blue eyes went dubiously to the woman and the goblin.

"What is your profession, Bloom?"

The woman grinned. "Oh, you know. A little of this, and a little of that. Most recently, Runt and I were hired scouts for Nanterre."

Ganth frowned. "Scouts? What were you scouting?"

"Oh, this and that."

The cleric cleared his throat with what sounded like a hoarse growl. "I understand perfectly. You and your friend are thieves. I figured I would dredge up a few with my generous offer of gold. Are you experienced?"

"Very. And Runt here is a magic-user, not a thief. He's experienced as well, belonging to the Third Circle of the Conclave of Magic-Users."

The goblin nodded and grinned at the dwarf. Deft found himself wondering where the goblin had come from. There were a few civilized tribes of goblins east of the river, and this Runt presumably came from one of them. Otherwise he would have been slain long ago. Most people believed the only good goblin was a dead goblin. But this one was a magic-user, so he had more value than most of his fellows. The fighter wondered what he and Bloom had in common, since it seemed they had adventured together before. It was an interesting puzzle the fighter looked forward to solving.

"What kind of a name is Runt, anyway?" the dwarf grumbled.

"It's just a nickname, I assure you," the goblin chuckled. "It's what Bloom calls me. My real name is Runggo."

"I never had a nickname," said the cleric. "I don't want one."

The group fell silent, getting second helpings while Ganth focused on finishing his first. The dwarf finally signaled the end of the feast with a long, unapologetic burp. He wiped his mouth with a hand and wiped it on his breeches.

"I am off to the front gate, see if any more stragglers have wandered in and perhaps lost their way. When I return, we shall be on our way to the docks. Be ready."

Deft nodded, watching the dwarf stomp across the common room and out the door. The fighter turned to Bloom.

"I guess we're the only ones brave enough to show up for this rescue mission."

"Or stupid enough. But we'll stick with brave. Anyway, I'm more than willing to risk my life for five hundred gold pieces."

"But you won't get five. There are three of us, so we'll each get a third of the total."

"That's nearly two hundred golds for me," Bloom smiled sweetly. "But you forget, if this Hill is as dangerous as these yokels around here make it out to be, some of us might not return. The less that return, the larger my own share of the reward grows."

Runt, who had been delicately sipping some coffee, nearly choked. His yellow eyes bulged and watered fiercely. He stared up at Bloom with a frightened expression.

"Surely you don't wish that _I_ might not return? My dear Bloom, I thought we were closer than that!"

"Relax, Runt, I was only kidding. Of course you and I will make it. But Deft here…" she ran her eyes across his body, as if sizing him up. "I don't know. It will be interesting to see."

"We'll all make it," the fighter growled. "These tall tales and stories are just that. You said it yourself. If no one has ever returned from the Hill, then where did all these rumors come from? From the minds of the folks living here in Fort Gaston. There's probably nothing over there at all, except a lot of trees and steam. Ganth's nephew and his friend are probably camping out over there, having the time of their lives. You'll see."

"Yes, I will. Most definitely."

The cleric soon returned, his face troubled. "I regret to announce that you are the only ones who answered my summons. We shall just have to make do, I suppose. I certainly hope you three are as experienced as you claim, for your sakes as well as fine. Have you ever battled monsters before? How many kills do you have under your belts?"

"Enough so that I'm not concerned about what we might find over there, if anything," said Bloom. "Don't worry, dwarf! We might be few in number, but we'll get the job done. I guarantee it! I'm not about to blow my chance to become rich!"

Deft walked over to the dwarf and put his hand on the cleric's shoulder. "I've killed dozens of monsters, Ganth. Bloom's right. Don't worry. We'll find your nephew. You're in good hands with us."

The cleric glanced up at the fighter and scowled. "I certainly hope you are right. But there is nothing further to do about it. We must leave. Time is wasting."


	3. Chapter 2 (Across the River)

Gathering their gear, they left the Lion's Den, and headed south down the dirt street towards the main gate. This was open for the day's traffic, if any, and manned by two scruffy guards who squatted by the wall, laughing and playing dice. They barely glanced up as the group passed through the gates and turned west towards the river.

They reached the river's edge, where a group of wooden docks protruded out into the water. Most of the fishing boats had already gone out onto the river, and Deft could see them out in the middle of the Shrill, already working for the day's catch. The fighter's eyes went up to the Hill beyond. All he could see were trees, and here and there a craggy slope or a gout of steam issuing from some hidden vent on the mountain's surface. Lake of lava or red dragon breath? The fighter smiled grimly.

Ganth led the others down the length of one of the piers, to a serviceable rowboat. An old man stood at the end of the dock, and when they had gotten close enough, Deft recognized him as the Old Timer from the inn.

"Good morning, Timer!" Ganth waved to the oldster.

The Old Timer returned the greeting. Deft noticed he held three tiny glass vials in his weathered hands.

"Good morning, friends! Good morning, Master Bladehaft! I have come to give you a parting gift. I am impressed with your courage and determination, and I wish you well. Were I a younger man, I would come with you on this quest. But I am no longer young, as you can see. But I can still give you aid, in my small way."

He held out the glass vials, which glittered with a pale green liquid.

"The liquid in these bottles helps to heal wounds. I present them to you with my prayers for your success in this endeavor."

Ganth looked at the proffered bottles, and squinted up at the Old Timer. "You old rascal, where did you ever get Potions of Healing?"

The old man laughed. "I have my secrets, Master Glintspear. I can't give them all away, now, can I?"

"I shall agree with you on that. And I thank you. These will certainly be needed if we run into any trouble over there."

Deft took the potions, and stowed them in his pack.

The Old Timer bade them farewell. "Good luck, all of you, and may the Gods watch over you and bless you."

Deft shook the Old Timer's leathery hand. "Thank you, my friend We'll be back across before you know it, with Ganth's nephew and friend in tow."

The old man bowed. "I certainly hope so, friend Deft."

The four adventurers stepped into the boat, and Ganth picked up the oars. The others settled themselves, with Bloom in the bow and Deft and Runt in the stern.

"I shall take the first turn at rowing," said the cleric. "But I am certainly not rowing the entire way. We shall not doing all of it. We shall switch halfway across the river."

"I can row," Deft said. "I'm not very good at it, but I'll certainly pull my weight."

They stowed their backpacks in the bottom of the boat, and the dwarf took to the oars, rowing with strong, powerful strokes. The Hill loomed closer with every pull.

Deft turned to his to see that Runt had something in his lap in which he was completely absorbed. The fighter noticed a golden ring with a large ruby on one of the goblin's fingers, and he wondered if it was magical. But it was the group of assorted objects that the magic-user was fingering that gave the fighter pause. He saw rose petals, a rolled ball of cobwebs, a clear chunk of rock, some pieces of parchment rolled up into a cone, several chicken eggs, and a several chunks of hardened sap from the acacia tree.

"Runt, what is all that stuff?" the fighter asked. "Your collection?"

The magic-user laughed softly. "A collection of sorts, Master Bladehaft. These are my spell components. Many of my spells require these items in order to cast. Without them, I couldn't complete the spell. I am just checking to make sure all is in order."

After poking the items with his finger a few more times, the goblin busied himself with putting them back into the three pouches that hung from his belt.

"And that ring on your finger, is that magical as well?"

The magic-user held up his finger so the fighter could better see the ring. "Why, yes it is. It is a Ring of Protection. Bloom and I found it on the body of a dead sorcerer. He tried to cheat us, and he got what he deserved."

The goblin chuckled, his runny, yellow eyes blinking.

"I'm sure he did," the fighter remarked, his eyes going to Bloom in the bow.

Halfway across the river, Deft took up the oars. By now, they could all see that the Hill had two accessible landing points, roughly a mile apart. The one further to their north stretched for a long distance along the riverbank. The ground looked low, flat, and muddy. Most of the grass had been choked off by hardier marsh plants.

The clearing almost directly west of them was a pleasant expanse of grass and flowers. At its western end, a stream plummeted down a rocky outcropping and ran down to empty into the river.

"We are making for that clearing yonder with the waterfall. That is where my nephew and his friend landed, or at least that is what the fishermen who saw them disembark told me."

"It's too bad we don't have a bard in the party," the fighter said. "He could have tracked their footprints. It would make finding them that much easier."

"Yes, it is unfortunate. I had hoped to employ one. But we shall do the best we can, the four of us."

The fighter turned the boat towards the northern edge of the clearing, where they could see another similar boat lying carelessly up on the shore. Ganth saw it and pointed, and the others nodded.

Deft slowly brought the boat into shore, while the others scanned the field for any sign of monsters or other enemies. Nothing showed itself, and they grounded without incident. They jumped out of the boat.

"Bloom, you stand guard," Ganth barked. "Deft, help me with our boat. I would like to hide it. If there are any monsters here, I would rather they remain unaware of our presence."

"And I," Runt said, "shall examine the ground surrounding the other boat, to determine if there are any signs to indicate which way our quarry has gone."

"We can't track them," the fighter said. "None of us is a bard."

"Nevertheless," said the goblin, "we might find some clue as to which direction they have gone."

Deft and the Ganth picked up the boat, and moved it into the heavy undergrowth among the trees. They dropped it in between two thick clusters of bushes, and returned to the clearing, verifying that it couldn't be seen from the edge of the glade.

"Now what?" the fighter asked the cleric.

"Now we shall have to see if there are any trails leading out of this place. If not, my nephew might have followed the stream uphill."

The two returned to the boat, where the goblin was finishing his inspection of the sand around Gareth's boat.

"There are some footprints," said the magic-user, "but only a few. I'm afraid it's not going to help us much."

"Pay it no mind," Ganth said. "We are going to look for trails leading out of this field. Gareth most likely would have taken one of those, if they exist. And if we find any, and they are still passable, that is a good indication that something _does_ live here."

"And it's up to us to find out what kind of something," Bloom grinned. "Well, let's get to it. The sooner we find these two, the sooner we can get back to the Lion's Den. Drinks will be on me, at least the first round or two."

The dwarf scowled at the thief. "I hardly think this is the time to start discussing victory, at this early stage."

Bloom sighed. "Just trying to stay positive, dwarf."

The group moved off to the west, staying in a tight formation with Deft and Ganth in the lead. They moved through the multi-colored flowers, glancing into the tangled forests to their right for any signs of a trail.

As they neared the northwestern edge of the glade, Runt suddenly whispered in his whiny rasp. "There's something standing in the forest, right at the tree line."

Deft and Ganth stopped suddenly.

"What are you doing?" Bloom hissed. "Keep walking! Otherwise they'll know we saw them!"

The dwarf ignored her. "What is it, Runt?"

The goblin peered forward. "I…I can't be certain, Master Glintspear, but it seems to be some sort of humanoid, about the size of Master Bladehaft."

Deft studied the area closely, and saw something sticking out from behind a tree. It looked like an orange colored arm and hand.

"There's definitely somebody standing there," he whispered.

As if to prove him and the goblin right, six figures detached themselves from the trees and strode into the clearing.

They were medium-sized humanoid, standing just over six feet tall. Their skin was a dark orange, and they had blue noses. Their eyes were yellow, like Runt's, and their braided hair iron gray.

They wore cuirasses of black leather, and carried crude wooden shields and long swords. Their hateful gazes bored into the intruders.

Deft grabbed his bow, rand reached into his quiver for an arrow. "Hobgoblins."

Ganth brought up his shield and mace. "That would explain the disappearance of my nephew, and all the other travelers who have come over here to explore."

The hobs began laughing and catcalling, making crude gestures with their weapons and fingers.

"Shall we attack?" Bloom asked, her sword already in hand. Runt was already running over the words in his mind to a magical incantation.

"Of course," Ganth frowned. "There are only six of them. We are slightly outnumbered, but I assume you have dealt with these curs before? Get ready. I am going to charge."

"Right behind you," the fighter said grimly.

With a dwarfish battle-cry, the cleric charged at the row of hobs. Behind him, Deft heard the raspy voice of the goblin chanting a spell in a strange, convoluted tongue. Two of the hobs suddenly slumped over and fell to the ground, most likely in response to Runt's spell.

Ganth's mace smashed against his hob's shield. Deft nocked an arrow to his bow and fired at one of the monsters. The shaft stuck into the brute's leg, and he howled in pain. Bloom streaked past Deft's left flank, and closed with another hob. Their swords clashed together in fury. The hob countered, ripping open Bloom's leg. The thief cried out in pain and rage, and doubled her strokes. The other hobs were on the move, running to engage Deft and Runt.

The fighter dropped his bow, unsheathed his sword, and spoke a single word, "Cinder".

The blade erupted in flame. This was a magic sword, enchanted to be sharper and quicker in combat, than a normal blade. It also burst into flame at its wielder's command.

Deft ducked under the clumsy swipe of the hob, and slashed out with his own blade. The monster's head sailed clean off his body, and the corpse dropped to the ground, blood gushing out of the severed neck in rhythm with the dying heart. Deft felt sick. He glanced up to see how the others fared. Ganth had dropped his foe with a powerful blow to the head which had crushed the thing's skull. Runt was fending off his opponent with his staff, and Bloom still struggled with her foe. Deft knew the magic-user was the most vulnerable member of the party, and he moved to aid the goblin.

The hob turned his attention to the fighter, blocking Deft's jab with his shield. The two blocked and parried for several seconds, each seeking an opening in the other's defenses.

Runt threw his dagger at the hob, and it stabbed deep into the monster's leg. He howled, turning towards the goblin in rage. This distraction gave Deft the opportunity he needed, and he brought his sword down on the hob's head, splitting it nearly in two. The monster crumpled to the ground.

Silence reigned on the battlefield. Deft drew in a deep, ragged breath, and knelt by the goblin. "You okay, Runt?"

The goblin grinned expansively, revealing his tiny, yellow teeth. "Yes, thank you, Master Bladehaft. I am well. The hob didn't cut me one bit. But I thank you for coming to my rescue. I am a magic-user, after all, not a warrior."

The fighter put his hand on the goblin's shoulder. "No problem, Runt. I'm glad you're okay."

Deft spoke the name of his sword, and the flames extinguished. He looked to Bloom and Ganth, who both stood around the body of the brute the thief had been battling. The fighter jogged over to them.

"Anyone hurt?"

Ganth pointed to Bloom, and the fighter glanced down to the bloody slash on the thief's leg. "Is it bad?"

"No, not bad at all," Bloom smiled sweetly. "Feels real good, too!"

"Nice. I meant do you need healing? Those potions the Old Timer gave us…"

Ganth glanced up at the thief. "We should save them for an emergency. Can you walk? The wound does not appear to be mortal."

"Naw, save those potions. I'm fine. It'll take more than a sting like this to put _me_ out of the adventure."

Bloom busied herself with ripping some strips of cloth off the tunic of a hob and binding her wound.

Deft looked down to the dead hobgoblin, whose face was smashed in, most likely by the cleric's mace. "We should check these bodies over. They might be carrying something of value."

"Leave that to me, Deft!" Bloom winked at the fighter, and began a thorough search of all the bodies. Runt called Deft and Ganth over to the two hobs that had fallen from the effects of his magic spell.

"I put them to sleep," the magic-user said. "But it won't last long. We should tie them up, and try to learn some information from them."

"Of course," Ganth grunted. "Anybody bring a rope?"

"No," said Deft.

"No," said the goblin.

The cleric sighed. "Runt, go ask Bloom if she has a rope. If not, we shall have to cut strips from the shirts of the fallen to use as binders. I do not want these two to escape. Where there are six of them, there are more than likely three hundred or more."

Deft sighed. "Great. I hope we're not walking into an entire tribe of these things. Four of us aren't going to do much good against those numbers."

"Which is why we need information. The goblin was smart to do what he did. Otherwise we would have no one to interrogate."

Bloom had no rope, so she and Runt cut strips of cloth from the hobs' clothing, and they quickly rolled over the two sleeping monsters and tightly bound their hands and legs.

"Drag them into the woods," Ganth said. "I do not want to be out in the open if another scouting party wanders by. This may take a while. Hobgoblins are notoriously stupid and stubborn."

The hobs woke up while the cleric and fighter were dragging them into the woods. Luckily, Ganth had thought to gag them as well, for they began struggling and trying to scream through their gags. The cleric waved his mace threateningly at them, and they settled down, although their eyes seethed with hatred.

Bloom and Runt joined them. "I didn't find any coins on them. None of the arms or weapons looked like masterwork quality, so they're not magical, either."

Deft shrugged. "I didn't expect to find much of value on them, but you never know. That's how I got my sword here, off a gnoll chieftain."

"That blade is pretty fancy," said the thief. "I've heard of these. They're called Flame Tongues, right?"

"I suppose. This sword is quite deadly against the likes of trolls, winter wolves, and especially the undead."

The thief sighed. "And we'll probably run into all three up here."

She pointed to her leather boots. "You're not the only one with some fancy magic, Deft. These are Boots of Elvenkind. I can walk undetected with these things. I got them off a dead bard. Of course, he wasn't dead when I first met him."

She flashed the fighter a devilish grin.

Ganth knelt down next to one of the hobs, and removed its gag.

"Listen to me, you ugly bastards. You are going to tell us where your tribe lives, its numbers and disposition, and what happened to a dwarf and a human youth who landed on this shore last week. If you do not tell me the answers I want to hear, I shall cut your fingers off, one at a time. Once I have finished hacking off your fingers, I will start on your toes. Then I will move to the ears, then the lips, then the nose, then the eyes. If you still have not told me what I want to learn, I will slice your throats and leave you to die. The choice is yours. But know that I am deadly serious."

The blue dwarf's eyes glinted with a barely-contained fury that Deft found disconcerting. He hadn't seen this side of the dwarf yet, and he wasn't sure he liked it.


	4. Chapter 3 (Halfling or Child?)

"I don't want to be a part of this," the fighter muttered. He moved away from the others, stepping back out into the flower-strewn field. He heard the hobgoblin shriek in agony, and he quickly walked away, heading west along the tree line. To keep his mind off the torture of the hobgoblins, he concentrated on finding any trails that might lead further up the slopes of the hill.

He found one at the northwestern edge of the clearing. It looked like someone or something was maintaining it and keeping it clear of debris, which was not a good sign. It was a narrow trail, and it sloped upwards at a good pace. After about half a furlong, it turned slightly to the left, and he could see no further along its length. This must have been the trail the hobgoblins had used, and it most likely led to their lair. If Gareth and his friend had gone this way, the hobs had most likely gotten them. Would they still be alive? Hobgoblins loved taking prisoners and torturing them to death. How long this took depended upon how much sport the victims provided. The fighter tried not to think about it. How many days had already passed since the boys had disappeared? It had to be at nearly a week, since Deft's hometown of Verdun was a two day journey from Fort Gaston. It would have taken Ganth's messengers two days to get there to deliver the summons, and it had taken Deft two days to reach the Fort. The odds were not good that the boys had survived, but the fighter decided against mentioning this fact to the dwarf. Ganth had to hold on to his hope, no matter what. Without it, the mission was already doomed.

Deft decided to suggest to the cleric that they not take the trail. They would be easy prey for the hobs, and could be overrun and taken prisoner themselves. They had to go another way, a way the hobs would not expect. The fighter's eyes went to the waterfall. Following the stream would be a better plan, especially if there were no trails near it. But it was a source of water for the hobs, so the party would have to be careful if they went that way.

The fighter walked over to the waterfall and studied the rocks. They were rough and craggy, and he figured he could climb to the top and have a look around at the lie of the land.

He had an easy time of it, and soon stood on the rocks at the top of the falls. He looked upstream to see the waters come tumbling down the rocky slope. The stream looked clear and refreshing. They would most likely be able to refill their water skins if the need arose.

The fighter turned around and stared back over the waters of the Shrill, filled with fishing boats. Fort Gaston squatted on the banks of the river, looking tiny and alone. Deft wondered if he'd ever make it back to the "right side of the river". His sense of duty could get him killed over here. But if the worst they had to face was a tribe of hobgoblins, he had hopes they could survive it. And if that was the case, then what happened to all those other groups of adventurers that had crossed over to the Hill and perished? Had they been unlucky? Inexperienced? Or was there something more sinister lying in wait on these dangerous slopes? The fighter decided he would not let his guard down, until he and his party were safely back on the east side of the Shrill.

The fighter heard a sharp whistle, and saw Ganth and the others standing near the tree line. Deft quickly joined them, scanning their faces for clues as to what had happened with the hobgoblins.

"Did you learn anything?"

"No." The cleric's face was grave. "They would not talk. They just kept telling us their names, and that they were warriors with the Broken Skull tribe."

"What did you do with them?"

"I did not torture them, if that is what you want to know. I am a cleric, Bladehaft. I do not go in for that sort of thing. Even though that is exactly what the hobs would do to us if the situations were reversed. No, they are dead now, dead but not tortured."

The fighter smiled. "I knew you weren't like that, Ganth."

"You are a bad liar, Bladehaft. But you are absolutely right. I am no hobgoblin. I was bluffing when I told them I would chop off their fingers and such. But they saw through the bluff. They knew full well they were going to die, but they refused to give up any information. So we are back where we started."

"Except now we know there is a tribe of hobs living here," Bloom said. "The Broken Skull."

"There is that," said Deft. "I found a trail near where the hobs attacked us, but I don't think we should go that way. It will most likely be guarded. I scouted the stream a little. I think that might be a better way to go."

Ganth mulled this over. "You are right, Bladehaft. Good thinking. We shall follow the stream. It will keep our presence here secret for a little while longer. Although when that hob patrol does not return, someone is going to be wondering what happened to them. Let us try to conceal the bodies as best we can."

With Bloom and Runt standing guard, Ganth and Deft carried the four hobgoblin corpses into the woods, and hid them as best they could among the undergrowth.

The party made its way back to the waterfall, and Ganth stared dubiously up at it. "Do you expect me to climb this? I am not a billy goat, Bladehaft!"

"But you're a dwarf, so…close enough, right?"

The cleric scowled and said nothing.

"I climbed it once already. It was easy. So you should have no problem."

Bloom snapped her fingers. "Piece of cake. Watch."

She lithely clambered her way up the rocky face, but slipped halfway up and was forced to jump back to the ground. Ganth laughed grimly.

"Piece of cake, eh?"

The thief fixed him with a sour glance, and tried again. Runt went up beside her. Deft waited with the dwarf. He didn't want them all to be hanging from the cliff face if more hobgoblins, or something even more sinister, decided to show up.

Bloom made it to the top on her second try, but Runt got stuck halfway up and could make no further progress. He tried to advance, but ended up falling. Deft caught him.

"Here, take it easy for a minute," the fighter said. "Catch your breath. I'll try my luck again."

Deft climbed to the top, using the same hand and footholds he had used on his first ascent. Ganth stood scowling up at him, and he sent the goblin up next so the dwarf could guard their rear.

Runt fell again, and sat on the ground, staring dumbly up into the sky.

"Now what?" the dwarf called up to the fighter and the thief.

Deft glanced at Bloom. "We don't have a rope. Is there any other way to get him up here?"

The thief shrugged. "He could try another way. Maybe find another place where the cliff isn't so steep."

"There is that. But sending him alone is too dangerous. What do you say, give him one more try?"

"Sure. But he's not a good climber. He spent his entire life hunched over those stupid books he reads."

The fighter grinned at her. "Well, he _is_ a magic-user, after all."

"Yes, he is. But he wasted his youth. When we were kids, he was always inside, learning magic and studying his spells. But I was out in the city, hanging out with my pals, breaking into people's houses and getting into all sorts of trouble."

On Runt's next attempt, he ended up falling again, so Bloom called out her plan for them to find another way to make it to the top of the waterfall. Ganth grumbled and muttered to himself about the dangers of dividing their forces, but he led the goblin north along the tree line, to find a spot where the grade of the land wasn't so severe. Bloom and Deft sat down on the edge of the rocks, staring lazily out at the fishing boats milling about on the river.

"How long have you known Runt?" Deft asked.

"Since I was young. About six years old, I'd say."

"I must say that it's strange for a goblin and a human to grow up together. There aren't many goblin tribes on the right side of the river, and those that are usually stick close to their own kind. What's the story with Runt?"

"Well, my father was a collector, of objects as well as strays. He was a magic-user, and one of his adventuring buddies had gone on a raid against some goblins in the Merecage. They had killed all the adults and most of the children. One of these kids was Runt. My dad's buddy felt bad for the little snot. Must have been getting old and sentimental. So he brought him home to my dad, who decided to keep him, and raise him as his own. I think he wanted to see if a goblin could be civilized, you see. It seems to have worked. Runt was different from most goblins. He had a keen mind. It wasn't long before my father started teaching him his craft. He tried to teach me that twaddle too, but I wasn't interested. My sword here is all I need to get me out of trouble, my sword and my wits. I don't need magic."

Deft smiled. He told Bloom about his own upbringing, as a son of a militiaman in the army of Verdun. How he had also served in the militia from his eighteenth birthday until his twenty-second. Having learned the ways of warfare and of the blade, he had decided to become a professional adventurer, since many people in Verdun had made their fortunes traveling the wastelands around the Seven States. Deft's father had called him a "no good nothing drifter", but those comments quickly stopped when Deft started sharing his booty with his family.

The fighter stopped suddenly, hearing the sound of something or someone approaching from the north. Whoever or whatever it was, they were making a terrific racket. Deft heard the cleric's voice cursing in vehemence, and he flashed a grin at Bloom.

"Someone's not very happy!"

The thief scowled. "Someone better learn to keep his trap shut, if someone doesn't want to bring every hobgoblin in the area down on us!"

Before long, the two could see the dwarf and the goblin picking their way through the tangled undergrowth. Bloom warned the dwarf to keep his voice down, and Ganth did so, after a few more choice curses thrown in for good measure.

Now that the entire party was at the top of the falls, they waded into the shallow depths of the stream and began walking westwards and upwards.

They followed the stream for half a mile, then rounded a corner. Before them, the stream issued forth from a long and narrow lake. They saw a small and pleasant meadow at the eastern shoreline of the lake.

They all saw the person at the same time, and crouched down in the middle of the stream so they wouldn't be seen.

Even though the person was some three furlongs away, they could make it out as a young, blonde-headed male. Presently he was kneeling near the tree line, but they couldn't see what he was doing. At least he wasn't facing towards them, so they were relatively certain he hadn't spotted them.

After a few minutes, he stood up and began walking west along the meadow, soon disappearing into the trees.

"What do you make of that?" Ganth rubbed his forehead. "That was no goblinoid."

"No," said Bloom. "It was a child, or perhaps a halfling. Hard to tell from this far away."

"Halfling or child," Deft said, "what is he doing out here all alone? Ganth, that wasn't your nephew's friend, was it?"

The cleric shook his head and frowned. "No. Cullen is a human and has dark hair. And that person was small, smaller than me."

"What now?" Bloom asked. "Do we follow our mysterious visitor?"

The dwarf thought for a minute. "We can at least go to the clearing and see what he was doing. But be wary. Whoever he is, he may have dark motives. He might even be part of this Crushed Skull tribe, as unlikely as that may seem."

"It's odd to see a halfling wandering alone," said Deft. "They're clannish, aren't they?"

"Yes," Ganth said. "Not as clannish as us dwarfs, but clannish in their own way. They certainly are family-oriented. They are also notoriously curious, and prone to wandering off on their own. So if he _is_ a halfling, he is probably just exploring the Hill, thinking nothing of the danger he is putting himself into. We might end up rescuing him as well."

"If we can find him," said Bloom.

They continued following the stream, and soon came upon a trail that bisected it. After a quick conversation, they decided to avoid the trails for now, and try to follow the halfling.

"If he's friendly," Deft said, "and we can meet up with him, we might be able to join forces. One more person in this party can't hurt."

"Depends on the person," Ganth muttered.

They reached the pond, and skirted through the underbrush on its northern side, heading for the clearing. They soon reached it. From here, they had a good view of the waters of the pond. The bottom was made of many-colored pebbles, and hundreds of harmless gold and silver fish swam lazily through the waters.

"This seems man-made," Deft said, "doesn't it?"

"It does look stocked," Bloom agreed. "Somebody's fishing pond?"

"Hobgoblins would not build something like this," Ganth said. "They only busy themselves with destruction."

"Maybe our mysterious halfling built it," Bloom offered.

From the tree line, Runt whistled, and the others walked over to join him. The goblin stood before three raspberry bushes. Deft noticed immediately that the berries on the shrubs were much larger than ordinary raspberries.

"This is where our halfling knelt," said the magic-user. "He must have been examining, or perhaps eating these strange berries."

Deft touched one of the berries. A warning voice in his mind told him not to eat them. "Runt, is this a normal species of raspberry? I've never seen any this big."

"Neither have I," said the goblin. "Perhaps they are some sort of mutation. I do not believe they are poisonous, because there is evidence that some have been picked. Allow me to conduct an experiment."

Reaching into his tunic, the goblin pulled out a foot long birch twig, and pointed it at the bushes. He spoke in the language of magic, and the berries on the bush began to glow with a pale green light. Deft's sword, Bloom's slippers, Runt's ring, and Ganth's mace and armor also glowed.

"This is a Wand of Magic Detection," said Runt, closing his eyes and standing very still as if concentrating. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes. The glow faded from the berries and their gear.

"These berries are under an enchantment of the necromantic school."  
"What does that mean?" Ganth muttered.

"Well, all magical and holy spells are grouped into several categories, or 'schools', as we magic-users call them. There are eight schools of magic: conjuration, enchantment, alteration, necromantic, divination, abjuration, evocation, and illusion. Necromantic magic deals with manipulating, creating, or destroying life and the life force of living things. Now, healing spells, such as those employed by clerics and bards, are from the necromantic school, even though clerics tend to not group their magic into categories."

The dwarf sighed. "Thank you for the lesson, Runt. What are you trying to say?"

The goblin blinked. "What I am saying is that these berries could be healing berries, or they could be deadly. I would advise against touching or eating them."

"Then we shall do neither," said Ganth. "Let us keep moving. Mayhap we can overtake the halfling."

"Not so fast, Ganth," Bloom grinned. "I noticed that your mace and mail were glowing like the rest of our magical items. Spill."

The cleric scowled. "Yes, they are magical. I know, dwarfs are not known for dabbling in the arcane arts. This was my father's weapon and my father's armor. He was also a Knight of the Order of the Golden Dragon. When he retired from the Order, he brought me back to Blackburrow, where our family comes from, and enrolled me in the Order. After my training was complete, on the day I was knighted, my father passed along this mace and armor."

"They do anything special?"

"No. They only have a slight enchantment. The mace strikes truer than a normal weapon, and this Ganth mail is enchanted with runes of protection. But I digress. Let us move out."

Deft had heard of Blackburrow, a large settlement of dwarfs that lived to the southeast of Fort Gaston. He had also heard of the Order of the Green Dragon. It was a society of clerical warriors that served Ametrine. They were knights-errant, charged with roaming the lands of the Five Cities and beyond, lending aid to whoever needed it. It had been founded more than two hundred years ago by the great dwarf cleric Axenite Warhammer, who had single-handedly slain a great green dragon that had been harrying the town of Dinard.

The party moved west along the meadow, and soon came to the spot where the halfling had disappeared into the forest. Here lay another trail, leading westwards at a level grade.

They decided to take this trail, even though there was still the danger of being spotted by a hobgoblin patrol. They walked single file, with Ganth in the lead. Deft came next. In this position, he would be able to shoot arrows over the dwarf's head, if the need arose. Runt went third, and Bloom acted as rear guard.

They walked for some two furlongs along the trail, with no incident. It had begun to gradually swing to the north, but still ran a level course. They came across another trail, leading westwards. They could see down its length for nearly half a mile, and saw nothing moving along its length. This trail also neither ascended nor descended, but ran on a level course.

They stopped at the intersection, and had a hurried conference. Deciding to stay on the trail they presently walked, they continued along its length for half a mile before emerging into a large, circular clearing. By now, they were a little more than halfway up the slope of the Hill.

The clearing was choked with thick bushes and brambles. To their right, another trail led off to the east through the trees. To the west, the ground sloped sharply up. At the top of the steep, rocky hillside sat a hideous idol, carved from granite. The statue depicted a fat, squatting, vaguely humanoid figure, whose face was twisted into a hideous leer.

They made no comment as they stared at the statue. Deft had a bad feeling about this place, and about the idol in particular.

"What demon is that supposed to be?" he asked the cleric.

After a minute of thinking, Ganth answered. "It does not look familiar to me. I do not believe it is any modern goblinoid deity, but it could be one from the ancient days. I know stonework, and this statue looks to be several hundred years old.

"There is a cave yonder," said Runt softly, pointing to a spot at the bottom of the hillside. Thick bushes choked the entrance of a round cave mouth.

"It doesn't look passable by humanoids," said Bloom. "Unless those bushes are just a decoy. Let's check it out."

"I want to get a better look at that statue," Ganth said. "Bladehaft, come with me."

The fighter and the cleric clambered up the rocky hillside, while Bloom and Runt investigated the cave mouth. The bushes were actual bushes rooted to the ground. Peering into the cave, the thief could see that past the entrance, it expanded rapidly. Many boulders littered the floor. The cave ran back into the darkness, and a musky odor issued from it, like that from an animal.

Bloom decided against entering the cave. But she thought about Gareth and Cullen, so she cupped her hands over her mouth and called out, "Hallo! Anyone there?"

No one answered, but the faint sound of many creatures squeaking came back to her. She looked at Runt and frowned.  
"Bats! Nasty! I'm not going in there!"

"I don't blame you," said the magic-user.

They left the cave, and joined the others in examining the ancient statue. Two round niches were carved into the figure's eye holes. What they had once held, no one could guess.

Exploring the length of this end of the clearing, they discovered two more trails. One led northwest, the other southwest. Since they had come from the south to reach this place, they decided to take the trail that led in the northerly direction.

They went single file as before, trying to keep as quiet as they possibly could. This trail ran fairly straight and level, and to their left, the land rose up in a lumpy hillock.

After walking for two furlongs, they came across another path that bisected this one from the southwest. Ignoring it for now, they kept on their present course. The trail veered to the north, and after a furlong, it entered yet another clearing.

At the far edge of this clearing, the ground suddenly fell away for a distance of eighty feet. Because of this, they had a good view of the surrounding countryside to the north, east, and south.

A mile to the east, they saw a flower-filled glade. To the west lay a long lake, running north to south. From its northern side, a waterfall plummeted over a rocky outcropping, and the stream bent eastwards before them, and continued running in that direction until it emptied its waters into the Shrill. Deft remarked that they could use that stream to find their way quickly back to the river, if they needed to.

To the southwest, between two notches of land, they could barely catch a glimpse of yet another clearing. Nearly due south, they saw nothing but trees, and the crest of the hill rising up in one final, triumphant summit.

Ganth turned to the others. "What say you? Where should we explore next?"

"I'd say we should follow that lake to its end," said Bloom. "See if another stream flows into it, and if it does, follow that. I'd think these hobs would be living somewhere with water nearby, right?"

Runt nodded emphatically. "It would make sense that they would settle near a ready source of water."

The dwarf looked to Deft, and the fighter agreed with the others.

"So, what was that statue back at the clearing, then?" he wondered aloud. He had been thinking about it ever sense they had left it behind. "Some old god worshipped by the hobgoblins?"

Ganth raised his hands. "It is possible. But it seems abandoned. That glade was filled with rocks and bushes, like nobody ever goes there."

"Maybe it's cursed," Bloom said. "And they avoid the area."

The cleric sighed "Anything is possible. But that statue does not help us find what happened to my nephew, so there is no point in thinking or talking about it further."


	5. Chapter 4 (A Bard on the Hill)

They clambered down the steep western slope of the hill on which they stood, and pushed their way steadily through the tangled undergrowth, until they at least broke free and stood in a small clearing filled with different varieties of wildflowers. This clearing lay on the eastern side of the long pond.

Deft glanced up at the hilltop, now almost due south of their position. The lake seemed to run close to its foot.

"We should get up to the top of the Hill," he said, pointing. "That way we'll be able to see everything."

The dwarf nodded. "And everything on this blasted Hill will also be able to see us! But it is a chance I am willing to take."

Feeling that they might finally be getting somewhere, they walked south, through the flowery glade, and again into the tangled underbrush of the forest. At the southern end of the lake, another stream ran into it, and they followed its course, soon coming to another clearing, this one complete with a waterfall. They scouted out the slope, and found a spot that gave them easy passage without having to climb. The stream flowed out from yet another pond, and they walked along its eastern side, with a steep hill on their left. After marching through the trees and bushes for two furlongs, they noticed a long clearing running along the far side of the lake. They all stopped and stood, staring at something that caught their attention.

"What are those?" Deft asked.

"Tents," Bloom said.

Now that he knew what he was looking at, the fighter could identify them as tents indeed. There were five of them, and among them stood three dome-shaped huts fashioned of what looked like twigs and leaves.

"Now who do you suppose lives there?" the dwarf asked. "Friend, or foe?"

"It may be hobgoblins," Runt whispered. "They have been known to build and live in such structures."

"Or it may be something else," the cleric said. "I think we should get a little closer, and maybe send in our clever thief for a closer look."

Bloom arched her eyebrows at the dwarf. "Sure, Ganth, why not? I'm game for mostly anything on this little expedition. But I'm not about to swim across the pond. Let's head back north, and cross the stream."

They made their way back to where the stream ran out from the northern edge of the lake, and they waded through the chilly waters to the far side. They crept slowly along through the trees, until they could see the northern edge of the clearing. The huts and tents were about one and a half furlongs to the south. Ganth motioned for the others to crouch down. Now they could see that the summit of the Hill was directly west of this encampment, and they wondered if that was somehow telling. Bloom whispered to them to wait for her, and she crept through the trees, heading west. Her plan was to get around to the western side of the clearing and have a look from there. The others sat in a bed of ferns and waited.

"Good luck," Deft whispered after her, but she didn't respond. He hoped that nothing happened to her. Determined to act as lookout, he crept right up to the edge of the clearing and hid himself behind a tree. He had a good vantage point to observe anything coming or going into or out of the huts and tents.

After about ten minutes, Bloom returned, with a grim smile on her face.

"They're hobs, all right. I could hear them arguing, although I don't speak the language. I should have brought Runt with me."

"How many?" Ganth asked.

"I think about eight or nine."

The dwarf thought for a moment. "That might be too many for us to handle. But they might have Gareth and Cullen. Could you return, and take the goblin with you this time? You might be able to learn some useful information."

"Sure," Bloom smiled. "We'll be back soon. Stay out of trouble."

The thief and magic-user crept out of sight, and Deft went back to his watch on the tents. He saw no sign of the hobgoblins; they must have been keeping to the inside of their tents.

"It is most likely a guard post," Ganth said. "I highly doubt there are only nine hobgoblins on this Hill. But it is no use trying to fight that many. I do not want to run the risk of us getting caught or killed. We have to use other tools on this job, including stealth and intelligence."

Deft nodded. "I agree. If other adventurers came here, they probably thought they could destroy the hobs, and the hobs most likely overwhelmed them."

"I just hope we can learn something about Gareth. Even if he is dead, I would like to know. Then we can go home. But if he is still alive, and being held somewhere, I want to try to rescue him."

Deft stared into the dwarf's face. It was set with a fierce determination the dwarfs were known for. "Just us? Couldn't we go back to the fort for reinforcements?"

"It all depends on the situation."

The cleric and the fighter waited for half an hour. Deft was starting to get seriously worried that something might have happened to Bloom and Runt, when they reappeared.

"What's going on?" the fighter asked. "Did you run into any trouble?"

"Naw," Bloom shrugged. "But we saw two more hobs come up from the south, and we figured we'd beat it before any more showed up."

"Did you learn anything useful?" Ganth asked.

"Not much, I'm sorry to report," said the goblin. "But we heard the hobs talking about a monastery, and how they'd be glad to get back there in a few days. The rest was typical goblinoid talk, insulting each other, complaining about their wives and the guard duty. They were also arguing about the dice game they're playing. One of them kept on winning, so they thought that perhaps he was cheating. But we learned nothing useful."

Deft thought back to the conversation he'd had the night before with the Old Timer. "You know, when I was speaking with the old fellow at the inn, he mentioned an abandoned monastery, that's supposed to be haunted by the spirits of dead clerics."

Ganth's expression turned thoughtful. "I have heard that rumor before, as well. That might explain the grotesque statue we saw. This monastery, if it exists, could be from the same time period."

"The monastery must be real," said Bloom. "And these hobs are using it as a base."

"I am sure that is where they have taken Gareth," the dwarf said. "If he still lives, that is. Now, if we could only learn where this monastery is, we could try to rescue him."

"And how do you propose we do that?" the thief grinned. "Start chopping off hobgoblin fingers?"

"No, these bastards will not divulge anything, and there are too many for us to take on alone."

"We could wait until their guard duty is up," Deft suggested. "And follow them back."

"We could," Bloom smiled, "if we have a few days to wait around. By then, Gareth and Cullen will most likely be dead, if they aren't already."

Runt offered his opinion. "The only sensible option at this point is to keep exploring, and hope we discover this monastery on our own. If these hobs are here acting as guards, then this place must be close by."

"You are right," Ganth said, his eyes going to the summit of the Hill, that overlooked the lake and the small goblinoid garrison. "Let us climb the summit, and see if we can find what we are looking for."

The others agreed to this course of action. Bloom led the way, and they passed through the forest, heading in a southwesterly direction. They soon reached the base of the summit, and began climbing up a moderate slope.

They reached the summit, and had just turned around to take in the view, when they heard a soft thud behind them. Whirling around, they saw a small figure standing ten feet away from them, as if he had just appeared out of thin air. It was the halfling they had seen at the clearing with the magical raspberry bushes. He wore a cuirass of studded leather armor, and a green cloak with black boots. He bore a backpack with a battle axe and a twelve-stringed cittern strapped to it. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and he wore a roguish grin as he pointed his short bow at them. The others reached for their weapons, but the halfling stopped them. "I wouldn't do that. I can shoot your eyes out before any of you get your weapons out of their sheaths."

"But you couldn't kill us all," Deft said, lowering his bow and the hand that was reaching for an arrow from his quiver.

The halfling blinked in confusion. " _Kill_ you? No, not at all! I don't want to do that! Why would I kill you? I was only kidding, you know. Can't you take a joke? I just want to make sure I'm not making a mistake here. I have one question for you, and if you answer right, we can be friends."

Ganth snorted. "What is this question?"

"Are you friends of the hobgoblins, or what?"

The dwarf laughed. "Hardly. We are only here searching for my nephew, who came here to explore the Hill, and has disappeared. We figure the hobgoblins have him. Do you know anything about it?"

The halfling lowered his bow, seemingly satisfied with the dwarf's answer. The others moved their hands away from their weapons, and relaxed somewhat. Deft noted, however, that their bodies were still tensed, ready for action.

"I haven't seen any dwarfs here. Birds, squirrels, stuff like that, but no dwarfs." He pointed at Ganth. "Except you, that is. Right now, you see. At this moment."

"What are _you_ doing on these accursed slopes, if I may ask?" Bloom said.

The halfling smiled. "Oh, exploring. Or looking for hobgoblins, rather. You see, I'm a bard, but I specialize in hunting hobs. Now you might say to yourself, _self, why would a bard be hunting hobgoblins?_ And then you would most likely answer, _I haven't the slightest idea._ But I'll tell you. I have a score to settle with them from way back. I'm from the woods around Dinard, that's a town along the southwestern edge of the Merecage. I had heard the rumors about this so-called Horror on the Hill, and decided to come and see for myself what all the fuss was about."

"Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Deft Bladehaft, of Verdun. This is Bloom and Runt, of Evreux, and here is the estimable Sir Ganth Glintspear, Knight of the Order of the Green Dragon, from Fort Gaston."

The halfling bowed. "My name is Twix Relkin. You can call me Twix. Most people do. Actually, I don't care what you call me, as long as you don't call me late for dinner."

The bard laughed, but the others exchanged puzzled glances.

They exchanged pleasantries. Deft felt no threat from this halfling. If he had wanted to kill them, he would undoubtedly have shot first and asked questions later. The fighter glanced at Ganth, and the dwarf nodded slightly. The tension left all their bodies.

"So, Twix, you say you are here hunting hobgoblins," Ganth said. "We have that much in common. We are here, as I said, looking for my nephew Gareth, and his friend Cullen. You said you have not seen any other dwarfs around, but what about humans, perhaps?"

The cleric described Gareth's friend Cullen, and the bard nodded negatively. "I haven't seen any humans, other than the two old ladies. And two hobgoblins, guarding the southern end of that clearing down there. I steered clear of them, and came up here to get a good look at the countryside. Which, I assume, is what you are doing as well?"

"We are," Bloom said. "There are hobgoblins guards in those tents down there. We're trying to avoid detection, while we search for Ganth's nephew. I was spying on the hobs, and I heard them mention a monastery. Did you see any buildings on the Hill that could pass for a monastery?"

"No. The only building I saw was the one the old ladies live in. But there _could_ be an old monastery around here. They didn't tell me either way. They told me about the monsters that wander around out here, about the hobs, the goblins, and ogres, and undead and so forth, but nothing about a monastery."

"Who are these old ladies you're talking about?" Deft asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Their names are Rosalinda and Rosabella. They're sisters. They live in a little house down at the southwestern edge of this peak here. One of them is a cleric, and the other a magic-user. They have gray hair and smell like mothballs."

The fighter frowned. "Magic-user? Are they friendly? I heard a rumor of an evil magic-user who lives around here. Her home looks small, but it is really a large manor house where she keeps the spirits of those she has killed imprisoned for all eternity."

Twix laughed. His laugh was that of a small child. "Well, that's certainly interesting! But no, they're both quite friendly, I assure you. I just met them this morning. They shared their tea and spice cake with me. They have a little farm down there. I can show it to you, if you'd like. But what is even more interesting is that I struck a deal with them. You see, it took the giving of quite a bit of gold, on my part, to even get any information out of them. They said that _no one gets something for nothing_ , or something to that effect. Once I paid them off, they started talking. They told me about the monsters that walk the Hill, and about this guard post here. They also told me about an old ogre that wanders about. They told me where I could find some magic berries that would heal any wounds I might get in fighting the ogre, and they also told me that they would heal me themselves, if the berries didn't completely do the trick."

Bloom laughed. "You agreed to take on an ogre, all by yourself? You must be either quite brave, or quite stupid."

Twix chuckled. "A little of both, I'd say. I haven't made my mind up completely on whether or not I'm going to go after this ogre. Or I hadn't, until I met you. Now I'm leaning more on the side of doing it. Facing the ogre, I mean. And once I do, I will have quite the tale to tell! You see, as a bard, that's what I do. I love stories and songs, especially ones about me! I'll make you all famous, trust me!"

"Did these sisters tell you why they wanted the ogre dead?" Ganth asked.

"They did. One of them said the ogre has been threatening them lately. You see, they told me that they were here long before the monsters started moving in, but after a fight with the hobs, in which they showed their skill in the magic arts, the monsters left them mostly alone. That was until lately, when the ogre started trying to extort money from them, saying he would burn down their house if they didn't start paying money for _protection_. Which I believe is quite illegal, and this ogre should know better."

Bloom smirked. "If these women are so powerful, why do they need to hire someone to do their dirty work?"

The bard shrugged. "Well, they _are_ old. They might have been adventurers at some point in their lives, but I'd say now it's easier for them to hire the job out to some qualified contractors. So, what do you say? Do you want to help me behead this ogre?"

The others looked to Ganth, their de facto leader.

"I do not know, Twix," said the dwarf. "My first instinct is telling me no, but my head says yes. This ogre might be in league with the hobs, and might have information about this monastery. Even if we cannot force the information out of him, we could try to trick him or bribe him. Ogres are notoriously greedy and stupid."

"That they are," the halfling laughed.

"Before we head off to confront this ogre, show us where these two old ladies live. I have a mind to pay them a visit, as long as they are truly as friendly as you claim."

"Sure thing, Sir Ganth. It's right over here."

The bard turned and began walking across the wooded summit of the Hill, heading southwest.

The dwarf turned to the others and spoke in a whisper. "I said that so we can find out if our little friend is telling the truth or not."

Deft nodded. "I think he is. He's obviously not a hobgoblin, and I can't imagine he's in league with them. If he wanted us dead, he could have filled us full of arrows before we even saw him."

"Nevertheless, watch him," the dwarf said. "I am not about to trust anyone or anything we meet on this Hill. Remember all those other adventurers who never returned? They may have fallen to treachery."

"Agreed," Bloom said. "Trust no one. Not even yourself."

They followed the halfling, who moved surely and quickly through the undergrowth. They reached the southwestern side of the summit, and stared down the steep slope of the hill to a long, narrow clearing below. Most of its area was covered with crops and fruit-bearing trees. A barn stood near the trees, with a cow chewing grass inside a fenced-in pen.

A small, white-washed cottage with green shutters stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by gardens of brightly-colored flowers. Three gravel-covered walkways connected the house with points of the surrounding forest to the northwest, southwest, and southeast points of the clearing.

"There is the house of Rosalinda and Rosabella," the bard said. "Their house is strange. Inside, it's a two-story mansion, filled with all sorts of paintings, ornaments, and knickknacks. Your typical grandma's house in the city, I'd say. But these two seem to live pretty high on the hog. Probably get their money from bilking explorers out of their gold, in exchange for information."

"Or," said Ganth grimly, "by killing the explorers, and selling their equipment."

Twix shrugged. "I really doubt that. If they had wanted to kill me, they could have just poisoned the tea and cake. I made sure not to eat or drink until they had first done the same. I felt like I could trust them, when I first met them, but I'm not a complete idiot, by any means. I wouldn't still be alive and hunting hobgoblins, if I was, would I?"

"Well, at least you are intelligent," the dwarf said. "And most likely wise, as bards are said to be. All right, Relkin, you have answered _my_ questions. We shall stop in and have tea and spice cake with these two fine ladies once we deal with the ogre. Did these two tell you where he lives?"

"They sure did. I can lead you there, if you like."

"Surely. But first, since we are up here, let us get a good view of the surrounds. We might even be able to spot this monastery."

They spent half an hour walking the summit of the hill, taking in expansive views from all directions. To the east, they could see the clearing where they had landed, and the one with the long pond and the berries, where they had first seen Twix. To the northeast lay the other swampy clearing at the edge of the Shrill, and two much larger clearings to the west of it.

To the northeast lay the clearing with the boulders, the cave, and the strange statue, and to the north the long lake that connected to the pond where the hobgoblins had their garrison.

To the south and the west was nothing but forested hills gently sloping down into a vast stretch of woodland, but to the northwest lay a gigantic clearing, running north to south, much larger than any of the others they had seen. It appeared dry and withered, and mostly grassless.

Ganth pointed in that direction. "Is that where the ogre lives?"

"No," said the bard. "He lives in a cave about half a mile southwest of the women's cottage. We can reach it by taking one of the trails that leads out of their clearing."

"Should we meet with them, then?" Deft asked Ganth. "Since we have to go that way anyway?"

The cleric pursed his lips. "No. I mean, we will not go knocking on their door just yet. But if they happen to come out and greet us, we shall surely speak with them."

The five descended the summit, and cut diagonally southwest across the sisters' clearing. The door to the cottage faced the east, and there was a window decorated with white, embroidered curtains. As they passed by the house, Deft thought he saw someone staring out the western window. But they disappeared from view as quickly as he had seen them.

"I guess this will prove whether or not these old bitties are truly friendly," Bloom grinned to Deft. "We're trespassing on their land. Most oldsters don't appreciate that."

The halfling glanced over to the house. "Oh, I don't think they'll care, since they've already met me. Seeing you guys with me, they'd probably just think that I met some new friends."

"Let us hope so," Ganth muttered.

As they walked, they discussed their plans for fighting the ogre.

"We shall try to talk to him, at first," said the cleric. "Which is most certainly pointless. If we cannot get any information out of him by threats, trickery, or bribery, then we shall be forced to attack. But he may very well attack us first and without much provocation. Be wary and keep your weapons handy. Runt, use your magic, if you have to. I will do the same."

"I have some spells that might be beneficial," the goblin said. "I can envelop him in cobwebs, or make him sick with a sulfurous cloud. But I will need to cast these spells before anyone closes with the ogre. The spell will affect you as well if you are in the way."

"I have a few tricks," Twix grinned, "as well as my bow. I'm an expert archer. It's mostly skill, but I get a little help from these."

The bard held up his arms, and they noticed he wore a pair of silver bracers traced with intricate runes.

"Ah," Runt nodded. "Bracers of Archery, I presume?"

The bard shrugged. "I suppose that's what you'd call them. With the five of us against him, this ogre won't stand much of a chance. Hopefully he'll talk, and then die without putting up too much of a fight."

"I pray to it is so," the cleric said grimly.

Deft felt a lump form in his throat. He hated the thought of killing any living creature, including this ogre, in cold blood. He almost hoped the ogre attacked them first. That would ease the fighter's guilt if they had to slay him. But Deft also reminded himself that ogres were evil, hateful bullies, that loved causing death and destruction, and most of them fully deserved whatever fate befell them.


	6. Chapter 5 (Rosalinda and Rosabella)

The trail they walked on ran westwards for half a mile, before ending at the edge of a cliff. Below them was a sea of tree tops melting away into the horizon.

Deft glanced over the edge of the cliff. The forest floor was over one hundred feet below. He turned to Twix with a pained smile.

"I'm afraid we have no rope, Twix. We can't possibly climb down this cliff without one."

The bard grinned. "We don't need to. Let's just scout along the edge of the cliff to see if there's an easier way down."

Twix led them south along the edge of the drop, and they soon found a place where the slope wasn't so severe. They slipped and slid down the bare, rocky face, and soon reached the bottom.

"Now," said the halfling, "the sisters told me that this particular ogre lives in a cave, with a wooden door.

Bloom frowned. "On ogre with a front door? I've never heard of the like."

"Neither have I," Ganth said. "But that makes me feel even stronger that the ogre is in league with these hobgoblins. They might have fashioned a door for him in exchange for his aid."

"These goons always stick together," the halfling laughed.

"So what's the plan," Bloom asked sweetly. "Go up, knock on the door, and ask if Mister Ogre can come out and play? What if he just refuses to open the door?"

"I intend to do just that," the dwarf said. "Pounding on an ogre's door will always bring him out. Plus we shall be shouting the most grievous insults to an ogre's ears. If that fails to bring him out to play, nothing will."

Twix shrugged. "It's as good a plan as any. Although wouldn't it be funny is someone knocked on his door, then we all hid? The ogre would be staring around like a dummy wondering what was going on!"

They reached the cave, which lay underneath an overhang of rock. The wide opening yawned into darkness. Deft stepped close to the door and unsheathed his sword, igniting it. The flames from the blade illuminated the area, revealing a fifteen foot wide entryway narrowing to a ten foot wall complete with a wooden door banded in iron. The door was presently closed.

Bloom clapped the dwarf on the back. "You want I should pick the lock now?"

"No. Everyone get into position, about forty paces back from the cave mouth. That way he can't rush us, and the archers can fire at him if he attacks. I'm going to pound on the door, and run back here to stand with you all."

They all got into position, their weapons out and ready. Runt pulled out a handful of cobwebs in one hand and held an egg in the other.

Ganth went up to the door, shouting and pounding mightily. He ran back to take up a position to Deft's right. The fighter had his bow ready with an arrow nocked. The dwarf lifted his shield and mace. Bloom and Runt stood behind and to the left of these two, with the bard a little to their left, his bow bent and ready to fire.

The cleric touched the holy symbol hanging around his neck, and bowed his head, chanting praises to the Mother, asking her to bless their efforts on this field of battle. Deft expected to see some visual effects of the spell, but nothing happened. He recalled a priest he knew from Verdun who said that magic-user magic was often showy and impressive to the eye, whereas clerical magic was more subtle.

A minute later, they heard the door creak open on its rusting hinges, and a monstrous form emerged from the cave mouth.

The ogre stood nine feet tall, and weighed nearly seven hundred pounds. His skin was a pale yellow, and his face was a face even a mother couldn't bring herself to love. He was clad in a shirt of a multitude of different animal hides clumsily sewn together. In his huge hand he clutched a knotty club that looked capable of smashing a man's skull in a single blow.

Deft had never fought an ogre before, and he felt the specter of fear grab hold of his heart and squeeze. He forced himself to calm down. He was here, with stout friends at his side. It was five against one. He would be safe. They would win this battle.

The ogre stopped upon seeing the group standing before his home. He raised his club, and scowled at them fiercely.

"What you want anyway? You knock at door, I come! You call me nasty names, ugly dwarf! What you want?"

"The hobgoblins sent us," Ganth called loudly. "We are part of the Broken Skull tribe, but we cannot find the monastery. We were hoping you could point us in the right direction."

The ogre's scowl deepened, and his muscles flexed. "Me could do that. Me also hungry today. Me not eat so good in so many days."

"You know," Twix said to the ogre. "I had a cousin who got eaten by an ogre once. He said it tasted like chicken. The ogre said, I mean. Not my cousin. He couldn't say anything, because he was dead."

The ogre glared at the bard. "Me hungry. Me eat you now!"

The monster roared at them and raised his club. Deft forced all thoughts out of his mind except for surviving this fight.

The brute moved quickly, for one so large. Before the fighter could react, the ogre was upon him, the massive club slamming down on his left shoulder. Deft felt an explosion of pain, and heard the bones snapping and cracking. The blow felt like someone had dropped a ton of rocks onto him. His knees buckled, and he nearly fell to the ground. He was dimly aware of the magic-user circling around from the left, and two arrows shooting from the bard's bow. The first one struck the ogre in the pectoral muscle, but the pain barely registered in the monster's small brain.

Then Ganth was beside him, swinging his mighty mace, forcing the ogre's attention away from Deft.

Bloom was moving around the ogre's right side, most likely to flank him, which was a trick that thieves often employed. The ogre howled, clipping Ganth's head with his club. The dwarf spun and reeled, but managed to keep on his feet. Blood poured down the dwarf's face. He looked severely injured. It was a miracle the blow hadn't killed him. But dwarfs were tough, and their small size gave them an advantage in fighting the much larger ogres.

Deft swung his sword at the ogre, but the brute blocked it with his massive club. Runt chanted a spell, causing two streaks of silver energy to fly from his outstretched hand and strike the ogre full in the face. The monster howled, blinking his eyes in pain and confusion, momentarily breaking off his attack on the human and the dwarf. But that moment quickly passed, and the ogre raised his club again, roaring in unabashed fury. Two more of Twix's arrows struck him, one in the stomach, and one in the neck. Ganth yelled a dwarfish war cry, and struck with his mace. The weapon connected, smashing into the brute's gut.

Suddenly, the ogre screamed, a horrible, wailing bellow, and toppled over forwards, nearly falling on Deft and Ganth. Behind him stood Bloom, her short sword red with blood up to the hilt. She grinned fiercely at the two.

"Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Normally, Deft would have appreciated the thief's humor, but now, he could think of nothing but the pain. He sank to the ground, his head bowed to the earth. Next to him, Ganth groaned in agony.

"They're hurt!" Bloom cried to Runt and Twix. "Bard, you said you had healing berries?"

"Of course!"

The halfling opened his belt pouch. He had taken two dozen off the bush, and now handed six of them to Bloom. She quickly forced the fighter and the dwarf to eat them.

"The sisters told me a strange story about the plants that I got these from, about how an ancient cleric had once spilled a Potion of Healing at the base of the raspberry bushes. These berries are supposed to have healing properties. Now we'll find out if that story is true, or just a myth."

"It is true," Ganth said, getting to his feet. He gingerly felt the top of his skull. "My head was split wide open, and now the wound is all but healed. I just need to wash off all this blood."

Bloom helped Deft to his feet, and the fighter responded to her query.

"I'm all right, now. Those berries are indeed magical. My shoulder was smashed to pieces, and now I feel as good as I did before the battle. Twix, hold onto the rest of those berries!"

"I will, and there are still a dozen left on the bush, if we need them. The sisters told me to take as many as I thought I would need, but I didn't want to be greedy. But I am sure they wouldn't mind if we took the rest."

"We shall soon ask them, to be sure," said the dwarf.

"And speaking of the sisters, our mission is a success. All we have to do is bring back the ogre's head. The sisters had also promised to heal my injuries, but the berries have taken care of that."

Bloom's eyes lit up. "They may have some other payment to give, seeing as how we killed their ogre for them. Right, Runt?"

The goblin smiled, his eyes watering up. "Yes. Perhaps they have scrolls or potions, if one of them is a magic-user, as the halfling claims."

"She is that indeed," said Twix. "She showed me her magic wand. And the other sister is a cleric, and she has a Staff of Healing."

"Then let us be off to see these sisters," Ganth said. "After we explore this ogre's cave, that is. It is my guess that it is brimming with treasure."

Twix retrieved his arrows from the ogre's corpse, and found the one in the grass that had missed its mark. Bloom eagerly led the way to the door, while the others stood guard, in case more ogres lived inside. The thief tried to push open the door, but something blocked it.

"Pick the lock," Ganth suggested.

The thief turned around and glared at him. "There's no lock to pick! It feels like it's barred from the inside!"

"It must just be stuck," said the dwarf. "The ogre could not get through the door, and also bar it from the inside. It is not possible."

"There might be some others in there," Twix suggested. "A whole family of ogres."

The dwarf glanced shrewdly at the halfling. "The bard is probably right. I do not wish to fight any more of these monsters, if we do not have to. I am lucky to be alive. And this is not doing anything to help us find my nephew. Leave the door. We shall take the ogre's head back to these sisters, and see if they can tell us where to find the monastery."

No one disagreed with the cleric's suggestion. Deft took on the unsavory job of hacking the ogre's head off, and Ganth carried it by the hair. They made their way back to the sisters' clearing, and Twix led the way to the door of the cottage.

The bard knocked loudly, and soon, the door opened, revealing the two mysterious sisters.

They were both gray-haired and plump, with pleasant faces and easy smiles. They wore plain, home-spun dresses, and wore white aprons. One of them had a golden ring with a sapphire gem on her finger, and the other a rolling pin thrust into her belt. They welcomed Twix warmly, and extended the welcome to his new friends. Their eyes lingered upon the head of the ogre.

"My my, this is so exciting! So you've completed the quest, and slain the ogre! Would you like to come in for more tea and spice cake?"

Ganth bowed in dwarfish fashion. "We would indeed, my good ladies."

"Our names are Rosalinda and Rosabella. But you may call us Linda and Bella, for short."

The party made their introductions, and the sisters turned to lead the way into their home.

Ganth dropped the ogre head into the grass outside the door. As the cleric walked past Deft, he shot him a sideways glance that told the fighter to stay on his guard. Deft had no intention of letting his defenses lag. Regardless of how well these oldsters had gotten on with the halfling, he wasn't about to trust them blindly. They could always have ulterior motives behind the easy smiles and eager assistance.

The sisters moved back into the cottage. Even though the building was only twenty feet square, the party found themselves standing in a room that was twice that size. Deft exchanged a quizzical glance with Runt, and the fighter could see that the magic-user was fiercely pondering this strange situation.

Two hallways led off this foyer, and the ladies led them down one of these, past a sweeping staircase that led to a second floor, and into a large, comfortable parlor. Many fine paintings, gold and silver ornaments, and bejeweled knickknacks decorated the finely-furnished room. Deft found himself wondering about the source of the sisters' wealth. Did they indeed make a rich living by selling the goods of the victims they lured into their obviously magical home? The fighter figured they would soon found out. He just hoped the party wasn't being led into a trap, one which they could have avoided, if they had just had more sense about trusting these two strange women.

In the center of the room stood a large table, surrounded by plush chairs. The five dropped their packs and gear to the floor, seating themselves at the table and making themselves comfortable. The sisters left the room.

"Do not eat anything," Ganth whispered harshly. "I am going to say a prayer that will determine whether or not these two are evil. If I nod my head, it is safe to eat and drink. If I do not, then we must beat a hasty retreat out of this place."

Twix shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I already told you these two were okay. They didn't kill me, as far as I can tell."

The sisters returned with a boiling kettle of tea and a plate of spice cake. As they were serving their guests, Ganth bowed his head and touched the holy symbol around his neck. He whispered softly, then gazed upon the sisters.

The dwarf could see their auras, and they indicated the sisters were neither good nor evil, lawful nor chaotic. The cleric had a choice to make. Should he trust them or not? He glanced at the bard. Twix had claimed he'd eaten with them this very morning. It seemed unlikely that they would have let him live before only to try to kill him now. Ganth had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. His life, and the lives of the other four members of his party, depending upon him making the right choice.

Soon all the guests were served. Twix ate and drank with the sisters, but the others waited, glancing around uncomfortably and casting furtive glances at the dwarf.

"What is the matter, my dears?" asked Linda. "Do you not like tea and cake?"

Bloom was about to come up with a lame excuse, when Ganth nodded his head.

"Not at all," Deft smiled at the ladies. "We were just saying our prayers."

The tea and cake tasted just like normal tea and cake to Deft, and after a few minutes, he relaxed his guard, assuming that these two old ladies might just be that, two oldsters living alone in the middle of a hill infested with hobgoblins, as ridiculous at that seemed. As they ate, the woman chatted pleasantly about the weather, their beautiful flower gardens, and the woods around the Hill. Deft felt it was time to get down to business, and Bloom obviously felt the same way.

"I want to thank you two for the fine refreshment," the thief smiled. "But I am wondering something. Several somethings, actually. As a matter of fact, I have quite a few questions for you two. If you'd answer, and answer truthfully, you'll find that we can be trusted allies."

The two ladies glanced at each other and smiled primly. "Yes, dear," said Rosalinda, "go ahead and ask your questions. But we could probably save you the effort, and answer them before you ask them. You see, I am a magic-user, and Bella here is a cleric. We've lived on this Hill for decades, long before the monsters came. Does that answer any of your questions?"

"It does, actually. So you're telling us that you are not allied with the hobgoblins that roam this place?"

The sisters frowned in distaste. "Of course not. Uncivilized beasts, the hobgoblins. They leave us alone, now. We had to teach them a lesson or two, when they first moved into this area. Now they give us quite a wide berth. The ogre used to as well, but then he got more bold. I'm sure Twix here has told you why we wanted to have him…er…removed?"

"I did," the halfling nodded. "And now that we've killed him, my new friends were hoping that you could give them some information."

"I don't know about _giving_ information away," said Bella.

"Information is knowledge, indeed," said Linda.

"And knowledge is power," said Bella.

"And power is a commodity in this day and age."

"And nobody gets something for nothing, these days, I'm afraid. It's just the way the world is going now, isn't it?"

Bloom laughed. "We get the picture, ladies. You have answers. We have questions. But it will cost us."

"I have a question, if I may be so bold," Runt blurted out, his eyes watering so that tears ran down his orange cheeks. The sisters fixed him with polite smiles, as the magic-user's eyes wandered about the large room.

"How is it that your house appears only twenty feet square from the outside, but from the interior, seems to be a two-story mansion? Have you employed some kind of illusory magic?"

"Ahh, you must be a magic-user as well," Bella laughed. "Yes, indeed, we had a friend of hours cast a Permanent Image spell on the outside of our mansion, when the monsters came. We figured we'd make a less interesting target, if we appeared to be just two simple county girls."

Ganth glanced up at the old women. "And what do you normally appear to be? Where did you get all your wealth, if I might ask?"

"You certainly may, Sir Ganth. We have no secrets from friends. We were adventurers, back in the day. Made quite a fortune at it, too. We've been retired for quite some time, now, but we've been able to supplement our income whenever visitors come calling."

"What happened to these visitors?" Deft asked. "The rumors in Fort Gaston are that no one who has ever walked the slopes of the Hill has ever been seen again."

The sisters frowned. "We do get groups of adventurers now and then, and we sell them what information we know. They always go off, and it's true that we never saw any of them again. But I assure you, we had nothing to do with their disappearance. Most of them go off after the hobgoblins, and they probably all met with a most unpleasant end, if they tangled with those ruffians."

"When we first landed on the Hill," said the dwarf. "A party of hobs attacked us. But we made short work of them."

The room went silent as the thoughts of the party went to the hateful menace of the hobgoblins.


	7. Chapter 6 (Deals Made Over Spice Cake)

"My nephew Gareth, and his friend Cullen came over to the Hill last week," said Ganth. "They did not return. Did you see them, by chance? A dwarf and a human child."

The sisters shook their heads. "No. We haven't had any visitors in three months. Certainly no dwarfs, or children."

The cleric sighed. "Do you think the hobs might have captured them?"

"It's certainly a possibility. They're always roaming the paths on the Hill, keeping watch for intruders. There are hobgoblins, goblins, and some bugbears, too."

"Do they live in an abandoned monastery?" Bloom asked. "Or is that another legend?"

"No, that's true. There is an old monastery up here, abandoned centuries ago. The hobs have moved into it. If they captured your nephew and his friend, my good cleric, then we can almost guarantee that is where they've taken them."

The dwarf's eyes glittered fiercely. "Do you know where this monastery is, good sisters?"

The ladies smiled pleasantly. "That we do, Sir Ganth."

"Will you lead us to it? Or at least tell us where we can find it?"

"We will, for the right price. That is the key bit of information that everybody seems to want."

The dwarf stared at the sisters, his face turning red as he fought to master his emotions. He spoke slowly and chose his words carefully.

"I am a dwarf, so I can understand the love of metal, gold in particular. But my nephew and his friend are merely children! Do you truly seek to profit from their misfortune?"

Deft grinned, turning his face away from the cleric. Dwarfs loved gold as much as anyone, and hated parting with it.

"We're awfully sorry, my good Ganth. And being a dwarf, I hope you understand. We really have no other source of income, besides the selling of information. And we can't make any exceptions. But because you seem a noble dwarf with a good head and heart, we'll give you a good price. We'll tell you what we know for seventy five gold pieces, which is half of what we would normally settle for."

Ganth's face froze, and he didn't speak. His eyes glittered fiercely as he stared at the old women, trying to keep his rage from exploding.

After a minute he turned to his companions. "My friends, I will agree to purchasing this information, if I may be able to deduct the cost from the share I promised to you upon the commencement of this quest. Are we in agreement?"

The cleric's eyes went to Bloom first. She grinned impishly back at him. "I'm all right with it, since it's no coin out of my pocket, so to speak. As long as we split any other treasure we might find equally among the four of us."

"Five," Deft cut in. "You forgot to include Twix."

She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes at the fighter. "Did I now, Deft? As I recall, we were to split the reward _three_ ways, not four."

"And we will," the fighter said. "But I think it's only fair that Twix should get a share of any extra treasure we might find. After all, he's risking his neck along with the rest of us, isn't he?"

The thief glanced at the halfling, who was cheerfully chewing on his fourth piece of spice cake.

"I suppose so," Bloom sighed.

Ganth continued his conversation with the sisters. "My dear ladies, we are agreed to pay you the sum of seventy five golds. But I must regrettably confess that I do not have that exact amount upon my person at this moment. But I can give you twenty five golds, plus a Potion of Healing."

"We'll take it," said Linda. "And with this information, we have a proposition for you. We'll give you two magical scrolls and two bottles of magical potions to aid you in your quest. In return for this, at the end of your successful endeavor, we will meet you back here, where we will claim as payment for these items we give you, any one single item you have acquired in the course of your adventures."

The party went silent again. Here was the ulterior motive, Deft thought to himself.

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" Bloom asked innocently.

"Why, yes, there is one piece we wouldn't mind getting our grubby little paws on, so to speak. About ten years back, a party of adventurers came to our door. In speaking with them, we learned that the party's magic-user had in his possession a Rod of Cancellation. The party went on their way, never to return, alas. Your good goblin will already know this, but the rest of you may not, so we will tell you. A rod looks like a sturdy metal stick, usually between two or three feet long. Some have a metal ball at one end. This rod was made of iron. If you come across it, please secure it, for that is the one item we would take above all others."

At the mention of the rod, Runt choked on his tea, and spent several seconds hacking and spitting while his eyes watered with a vengeance. Bloom heartily thumped him on the back, while the goblin tried to say something. His voice came out as a wheezing croak.

"I have no use for some magic rod," Ganth said. "I agree to your terms. What are these potions and scrolls you are to give us?"

"A Potion of Gaseous Form, a Potion of Invisibility, a cleric scroll containing the spells Cure Light Wounds, Detect Magic, and Protection from Evil, and a magic-user scroll with the spells Web, Detect Magic, and Magic Missile."

"I would like to speak," Runt croaked, finally finding his voice. "If we find this Rod of Cancellation, we cannot simply give it to you in exchange for the potions and scrolls. The market value of this type of magic item is at least fifteen thousand gold pieces. The value of the potions and scrolls you're to give us is not even close. If we find this rod, we might be willing to sell it to you, taking into account the value of the potions and scrolls you've said you'll bequeath to us."

The sisters glanced shrewdly at each other.

"Aha!" said Bella. "You know your magic items, good Master Runt, as any magic-user worth his salt should! It is agreed then. If you procure this rod, we'll bargain over the price later. Just remember to get it if you see it. The hobgoblins won't know what it's good for, since they aren't typically magic-users. Although I could see their king possibly using it, as a badge of office."

"We were not planning on meeting their king," Ganth said. "But we'll do what we can."

"Surely, good Sir Ganth."

" _I_ was looking forward to meeting their king," said Twix. "That's the reason I'm here. Like I told you all before, I'm a hobgoblin hunter. And there is quite the price on the head of a nasty old king called Bash. Old King Bash they call him. He was set up around one of the village on the outskirts of Dinard, but he since moved on, when a few bounty hunters came looking for him. So I'd be very interested to see who is running the show in the hobgoblin camp. If it's Old Bash, I'm going to become one wealthy bard, plus take my revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Deft asked.

Twix sighed. "I grew up in that village, the one that Bash lived near. It was called Barnyard. Five years ago, Bash and his goons attacked my home. We tried to fight, but they wiped out nearly the entire village, including my family. So you can understand why I want to crack this King Bash's head open and eat his brain."

The cleric frowned at the halfling. "Our mission here is to get my nephew safe and sound back to Fort Gaston. If you want to go after this hob king, that is your business. But don't expect any help from me."

"We can talk about this later," Bloom sighed. "But since it seems we're done here, maybe it's time we were on our way. The longer we sit here drinking tea, Ganth, the longer your nephew is in the hands of the enemy."

"Yes," said Bella, "you should probably get going, now that you've had a nice morning snack to bolster your resolve. I will go and fetch the potions and scrolls."

While the magic-user went upstairs, Ganth produced a Potion of Healing from his backpack. The liquid inside the clear vial was a sluggish purple. The dwarf stared at it moodily. He would just have to hope that he made out better in this deal than the sisters did. And with the business of the Rod of Cancellation, he knew he'd have to wait until the end of the adventure to truly make that determination.

Bella soon returned with the potions and scrolls. She held up one glass vial with a pale, pink, clear liquid in it. The other was a larger bottle with a black, sluggish concoction inside. "This pink one here is the Potion of Gaseous Form. This other, the Potion of Invisibility."

She set them on the table, and placed next to them two scroll tubes, fashioned of some white wood, with cork stoppers.

Ganth set down his Potion of Healing on the table. He pulled the cork out of one of the scroll tubes, and removed the rolled piece of vellum inside. The sheet was some three feet long, reinforced with leather strips every foot or so. The cleric spread the lambskin paper flat on the table and looked at the writing. It was done in a strong hand in black ink. The dwarf was surprised to see that he could read the writing. Usually, a newly written scroll was undecipherable to any reader, unless they cast a Read Magic spell upon it to make the writing understandable. It appeared that the sisters had already done this at some point.

The other tube contained the clerical scrolls, which were written out as generalized prayers to a clerics' higher power.

"We should divide these things among ourselves," Bloom said. "In case we get separated."

The cleric nodded his head. "It is a sound idea, Bloom. But I should at least carry this scroll of clerical spells, and Runt the other. As for the potions, you should take the one of Invisibility. If anyone ends up using it, it should be you. And the magic-user should take the Potion of Gaseous Form. I have three Potions of Healing in my pack, and Deft also has three. We shall divide them up amongst us."

"We should also stop at those magic bushes and pick the rest of the raspberries," Twix said. He turned to the sisters. "I only took a two dozen before, but now there are more of us, and we'll be doing a lot more than fighting one ogre, I'm afraid."

Linda smiled at the halfling. "That is quite all right, Twix. As I told you before, feel free to pick as many as you need. That bush is quite magical. If one were to pick all the berries on it, in a few days, it would be full once again."

"Ladies," said Ganth, rising from the table. "I thank you for the refreshment, the potions and scrolls, and all of your help. But before we depart, one last thing remains. You must tell us where this monastery lies, and how to find it."

"Of course. If you take the eastern path out of our glade here, and turn left onto the path that runs northwards along the eastern side of the peak, you'll come to a long pond. But be wary, as that way is guarded by hobgoblin soldiers."

Bloom laughed. "Yes, we've already seen them. We were up that way just before we passed by your home on our way to slay the ogre."

"Beyond the tents of the hobgoblins, at the northern end of the lake, lies a waterfall in a small clearing. A path runs northwest from that clearing. It leads into a large, grassless area northwest of here. There is a trail in the northeastern edge of that clearing, which will lead you directly to the monastery."

"If you want to bypass the hobgoblin guards," said Linda, "my advice is to travel north directly from here, through the forest. That way you can avoid the guards by the lake."

Ganth bowed in his most respectful dwarfish manner. "My infinite thanks to you both. And now, we must depart. My nephew Gareth awaits!"

"Before you leave," said Bella, "I can heal any of your injuries."

"Bloom and Ganth are hurt," Deft said. "Anyone else?"

"Not a scratch," Twix grinned.

Bella moved over to Ganth and put a wrinkled hand on his forehead. She touched a small silver medallion around her neck and spoke a quick prayer. The dwarf felt the pain in his head recede. He bowed again.

The old cleric did the same with Bloom, healing her injured leg.

Fully healed, rested and revitalized, the party gathered their gear and prepared to leave. The sisters saw them to the door, and regaled them with some parting words.

"Farewell, good luck, and come back soon! Remember our deal, and keep an eye out for that Rod of Cancellation, or any other interesting magical items! We'll be waiting for you with more tea and spice cake!"

The sisters waved from the door as the party departed, heading east. Twix took the lead, his bow nocked and ready. He knew the way to the clearing with the raspberries, as he'd come that way earlier.

The group passed by the Hill's summit, and the bard called a halt. He spoke in a low voice. "Up ahead is the path that leads to the huts of the guards. The trail runs for a furlong before it enters the clearing, and that's where two guards are. Since the trail curves, and the underbrush is so thick, we don't have to worry about them seeing us, but they might hear us, if we don't keep quiet. I just wanted to warn you."

Ganth clapped the halfling on the back. "And so you have, good Twix. Many thanks."

They soon reached the trail that led north to the pond, and passed it by. The path they traveled turned slightly to the northeast. After walking for half a mile, they began to descend a gradual slope, and saw another trail that bisected the one they were on. Twix led them to the right, and they reached the glade of the magical berries after several minutes. They picked the remaining dozen berries from the bushes, and then divided up the healing potions, berries, and scrolls amongst them.

This done, they retraced their steps back to the sisters' cottage. Deft glanced into the eastern window as they walked to the north side of the clearing, but he couldn't tell if the sisters were watching their progress or not. He supposed it didn't matter either way.

They moved into the trees at the northern end of the clearing, and spent the next half mile pushing their way through the ferns, bushes, and thorns. They finally emerged onto the trail the sisters said led to the grassless clearing.

They turned left, and walked for another half mile. The ground sloped gently downward, and after ten minutes they emerged into the clearing. It was immense, running more than half a mile north to south, and two furlongs east to west. There was no growth other than a few clumps of scraggly grass. Most of the ground was cracked, dry earth, and the forest surrounding the glade seemed especially quiet, dark and foreboding.

They walked to the northeastern edge of this desolate place, and found the trail leading east, just as the sisters had relayed. They stopped and had a hurried conference. Ganth decided to send Bloom down the trail to investigate. If she ran into trouble, she was to promptly shout, and they would come to her aid.

The other sat down to rest, except for Twix. The bard walked westward along the treeline, and soon came upon an area where bunches of thorn bushes had started to grow along the edge of the clearing. The bard noticed several smooth, square, white stones lying amongst the thorns.

The bard squeezed in among the thorn bushes and knelt down to examine one of the stones. It looked like a gravestone. There was writing carved into its face, but it was too weathered to be read. The halfling went to another, and was surprised to see that the ground in front of the stone had been excavated, to a depth of about six feet. The grave was empty. Feeling a shudder run through him, Twix moved amongst the forlorn and forgotten graveyard, examining more markers. It seemed that one out of every three graves had been dug up, and it had been done recently.

The bard suddenly heard the sound of something crashing through the underbrush. He stood up and turned to see four creatures coming at him from the west. They looked like naked humans, but their skin was pale and they were badly emaciated. Their tongues were long and black and hung from their fanged mouths, and their hands ended in long, sharp, black claws.

Twix turned and hurried through the thorns, breaking free into the clearing. He ran as fast as he could to the east, shouting a warning to his companions.

The other turned in surprise to see the bard running towards them. Four creatures burst out of the trees in hot pursuit, but they were slower than the halfling, and couldn't catch him.

"Ghouls!" the bard cried.

"Oh, crap!" Deft said.

The fighter gulped and watched the monsters chase the halfling across the field. At least there were only four of them, although that was enough. Ghouls were undead creatures who feasted on human flesh, whether it was dead or alive. They were cunning, fearless, and extremely dangerous. They attacked using their filthy claws and fangs, which caused their victim to become paralyzed and unable to move. When their pray fell, the monsters devoured them alive.

"What do we do?" Deft cried, his voice rising in panic. Ganth hefted his shield and mace.

"Run, or fight. They are quite far away. I will bet you can stick them full of arrows before they even get to us. Runt, do you have a spell that will deal with them?"

The goblin nodded, his bulging eyes on the approaching undead. "I have my Web spell, which will entangle them in cobwebs. The webs will last for half an hour, but I can't cast it until they're within range. But I might not be able to entangle all of them."

"All right. Shoot your spell off when they are within range. If that does not work, I shall attempt to turn them away. Hopefully Deft will be able to slay a few, if not all of them, before they reach us. As a last resort, we run east. We can easily outdistance them, although they are tenacious and may continue to pursue us for miles."

Deft put an arrow to his bow. "It's a shame that _this_ rumor turned out to be true!"

"Shoot, man!" the dwarf cried. "What are you waiting for?"

"They're too far away! I need to wait for them to get closer!"

"Do not wait too long!"

The fighter sighted on the lead ghoul, which was only about ten feet behind the running bard. He counted down the seconds, and when half a minute had passed, he started to let fly with his arrows. He just hoped he didn't accidentally hit Twix.

His first arrow struck the lead ghoul in the chest. His second missed, but his third took the thing in the throat and dropped it. He only had time for three more shots before he would be forced to drop his bow and draw his sword. At least the Flame Tongue was highly effective against undead. They might get out of this after all. But if the ghouls managed to paralyze one or more of the party, things would take a tragic turn.

Deft's last three arrows missed. The ghouls were only thirty yards away. The fighter threw down his bow and drew forth his sword, commanding it to burst into flame. Runt ran a few feet in front of the fighter and the cleric, and pulled a ball of cobwebs out of one of his belt pouches. He chanted and waved his hands around in a strange pattern.

"Wait!" Deft shouted. "You'll hit the bard! Twix! Get out of the way!"

The fighter hoped that the goblin didn't catch him in his spell. The ball of cobwebs flew from the magic-user's hand, streaking towards the ghouls. At the last second, the bard veered to the right, moving out of the line of fire of the spell. The ball hit the lead ghoul and exploded into a twenty-foot wide mass of cobwebs.

The undead thrashed and gnashed their teeth, trying to pull themselves free of the sticky fibers. Deft ran up close to them, and he and Twix fired arrow after arrow into the horrid creatures.

They each fired eight arrows into the ghouls. Twix killed two and Deft slew the last. The four moved quickly into the woods around the trail that Bloom had taken. They crouched down in the undergrowth and sat silently, staring out into the dead field to see if they could spot any more ghouls.

Deft patted Runt on the shoulder. "Good job, my friend," he whispered. The goblin grinned, chuckling softly.

" _That_ is how one deals with the undead!"

The fighter smiled. He would have never thought that he would be friends with a goblin. But he was glad that he was.


	8. Chapter 7 (The Abandoned Monastery)

Bloom returned ten minutes later, and they apprized her of the situation.

"Are you telling me I missed all the fun?" she laughed.

"If you can call it that," Twix said. "Although it _was_ kind of fun, running from those smelly old ghouls. They must have been so mad that they couldn't get me and gobble me down!"

"What are we up against out there?" Ganth grimly asked the thief.

Bloom smirked. "Not much. A couple of old crumbling buildings. I didn't see any hobs about. If there are any guards, they're well-hidden."

The dwarf nodded. "Let us continue on, then, as quietly as we can. Keep alert. Be ready for trouble at any second. We shall scout the place out from a safe distance, and decide what to do from there."

They crept quietly down the path, reaching their destination within a few minutes. The monastery grounds had once been surrounded by a square wall, but now it was almost entirely destroyed. What remained was so covered with fungus, moss, and vines that it was difficult for the party to guess what kind of stone the wall had been fashioned from.

They moved to a hole in the wall and crouched down, peering into the courtyard. The area was overgrown with trees and bushes, but not as extensively as the surrounding forest. The compound consisted of a large main building set in the corner of the northern and eastern walls. Slightly to the south of this building sat a small, square building with a double row of columns marching out westward from its double doors The westernmost row of columns had fallen over into rubble.

Slightly southwest of this small building lay an oval pool, filled with an expanse of dark green water. East of the pool stood a jumbled mass of stone that looked to have once been some kind of building. It stood roofless, and the walls had crumbled to a height of three or four feet.

Nestled in the corner of the western and southern walls sat a third building, the smallest in the compound, with a long wing jutting off the eastern side.

The only other noteworthy sights were a tangled garden set in the northwestern corner, opposite the monastery proper, and a wide crevasse in the ground, due east, fifty paces or so from the beginning of the ruined row of columns.

The party sat quietly for ten long minutes, watching and listening. They heard no noises other than the warbling of the birds, the cough of a squirrel in the trees overhead, and the occasional dull hammering of a woodpecker in the distance. Nothing at all moved within the compound.

"It looks deserted," Deft whispered. "Maybe the hobs abandoned it?"

"Doubtful," said Ganth. "Why would the garrison be down at the lake, then? No, I am sure these hobs are here. These buildings are probably absolutely crawling with them. There are guards around, too. There must be. We just cannot see them."

"So, what's our move?" Twix asked.

The dwarf fixed him with a grim smile. "We shall bring the guards out to us. No more hiding. Come on."

The cleric stood up, firmly gripping his shield and mace. The others got to their feet behind him, weapons held at the ready. In a tight formation, they walked out from behind the protective cover of the wall and worked their way through the trees of the courtyard towards the crevasse in the ground. Their eyes swept over the buildings in the compound, and their ears strained for any hint of sound. There was nothing.

They reached the edge of the crevasse, and the dwarf frowned down into it. It was so deep, they couldn't see the bottom. Greenish mold and fungus grew thickly along the lip of the opening.

Bloom peered down into the unfathomable depths. "What is this?"

The dwarf shrugged. "Probably a geyser vent. The Hill is volcanically active, apparently. It is always shooting up gouts of steam that we can see from Fort Gaston. We should not stand near this. If it goes off, it is going to shoot out a massive amount of boiling water. I, for one, do not feel like getting parboiled on this expedition."

"Me neither," said Twix. "That doesn't sound fun at all. I can imagine it would be quite painful."

"The guards are here," Bloom said softly, with a firm warning in her voice.

The placid silence was shattered by enraged shrieks. Whirling, with weapons already at hand, the group saw a squad of nine yellow-skinned goblins charging towards them from the eastern edge of the tangled garden. The goblins looked much like their larger cousins, the hobgoblins, except they were half the size, and didn't have blue noses or any hair on their heads. Clad in leather cuirasses, they waved their short swords and braced their wooden shields for the attack. Their captain, a larger goblin with more reddish colored skin, bore a metal shield. He beat his blade against it and shrieked as he rallied his troops from the rear ranks.

"Hold!" Ganth cried, raising his shield and mace. "Let them come to us!"

They braced themselves for the attack. The shrieking goblins crashed into them, and a pitched battle began. The party hacked and slashed, chopping into goblin flesh like they were chopping wood. Three goblins fell in the first few seconds, and two more in the next few. Bloom, Ganth, and Twix each took minor wounds, but Deft and Runt were unscathed. The last goblin fell to Ganth's mace, the entire battle having lasted less than half a minute. Bloom, Ganth, and Twix had each taken minor wounds. The dwarf had killed four, Bloom one, and Twix and Deft had each slain two.

But one goblin still lived, even though he lay on his back, drenched in blood, moaning and groaning.

They checked each other's injuries. None were severe, but Ganth had a slash across his forehead that was pouring blood into his eyes.

Deft stared around the compound, relieved to not see any more troops, goblin or otherwise, pouring out of the buildings to assault them.

"It seems we might yet have the element of surprise," Ganth said. "Let us hide these bodies in the garden, and then everyone move to that building to the south. Bloom, you and Deft carry the surviving goblin with you. I have some questions to ask him."

The thief smiled grimly at the dwarf. They all hauled the slain goblins back into the tangled garden, and saw three tunnels dug into the dirt among the weeds and vines that the goblins had been hiding in.

Once the bodies were hidden, they headed for the southern building. Bloom grabbed the wounded goblin's legs while Deft gripped his arms. They lifted him and started walking, carrying their moaning prisoner to the small building.

Twix hung back in the rear, his bow nocked and ready as he scanned the area. His gaze fell on the goblin leader's metal shield. A quick glance revealed the quality of its workmanship. It was no goblin shield. Besides being made of steel, it was painted black, with a device of three trees in full bloom.

The halfling grinned, and picked up the shield. He hastened to the magic-user's side.

"Runt, what do you think of this?"

The goblin stared at the bard in confusion, then nodded curtly. "Ah, I see. It looks to be the shield of a master armorer. And magic-users can only enchant items of the highest quality. I see your reasoning, Master Twix. The shield might be magical. It fits you well."

As they walked, the goblin pulled out his magic wand, chanted a magical phrase, and pointed the birch stick at the shield. The shield glowed with a pale green light.

"It is indeed enchanted."

"What does it do?"

The goblin shook his head sadly. "That I cannot tell. My wand only detects magical auras. This one is from the abjuration, or protection school. It is most likely a minor enchantment, one that will offer a little better protection than a normal shield would."

"Too bad I don't use a shield," the halfling said. "Maybe Sir Ganth will want it!"

The building before them seemed to have withstood the ravages of time fairly well. A new-looking wooden door stood open before them, and there was another one, this one closed, set into the middle of the building's long wing. They stepped through the door into a square room, filled with the remains of rotting tables and benches. Shattered pottery lay over much of the floor.

Deft and Bloom lay the wounded goblin down on the floor, while Twix shut the rotting door the best he could to keep them all safe from any prying eyes. Deft went to an open door in the east wall of the room. He peered into shadowy darkness beyond. Unsheathing his sword, he ignited it and stared down a hallway with four open doors along the south wall. The fighter moved down the hallway and peered into the small chambers. Each was filled with a pair of rotting wooden bed frames, and other pieces of ruin that might have once been wooden furniture in some forgotten age.

Satisfied that the building was secure, he rejoined the others in the main room. Since the building had no windows, the only light came from Deft's flaming sword.

Twix produced the healing berries from his belt pouch, giving two each to the cleric and the thief. He took none for himself, not feeling it necessary. He only had a tiny slash across his left arm. While the other two ate their berries, the bard took a strip of cloth from his backpack and bound the wound. The magic raspberry completely healed the wounds of the thief and the cleric.

Twix proffered the shield to the dwarf. "It's magical, Sir Ganth."

The dwarf scowled. "I have my own shield."

"But your shield isn't magical," Runt said. "This one will afford you better protection."

Ganth scowled at the goblin. "Fine. I shall use it, then."

The dwarf secured his regular shield to his backpack, then hefted the magical shield. It was lighter than his wooden shield. The cleric harrumphed.

Ganth dropped the shield and set to work interrogating the goblin. The creature was terrified, and ready to talk, after the cleric gave his solemn vow to the Mother that he would release the goblin once he told them everything they wanted to know.

The goblin confirmed that Gareth and Cullen had been taken prisoner, and were being held in the lair of the hobgoblins, which was in the cellars beneath the monastery. The lads were slaves, forced to work in the smithy making weapons for the great invasion of Fort Gaston that King Bash was preparing for. When pressed about the number of hobs, the goblin estimated there were about forty, all of them warriors, and about a dozen goblins. Three bugbears also lived below, working for King Bash in the armory.

The goblin told them detailed information about the configuration of the cellars, and what rooms were occupied. The king and most of his guards lived in the southern end of the dungeon, and the forge was located at the northern end, close to the stairs. While the goblin described the layout of the monastery and the dungeon beneath, Runt drew a crude map on a piece of vellum using a charcoal pencil.

"I knew King Bash was behind this!" Twix said. "And I'm happy your nephew and his friend are safe and sound."

"For now," Ganth breathed. "My praises to the Mother. It should not be too hard to rescue them. Eight hobs and a bugbear overseer work in the forge. All the other hobs are clustered down at the southern end, around the king. We should be able to get in and get out pretty quickly."

"But what about King Bash?" Deft said. "Twix is after the bounty on his head. Are we going after the king or not?"

Ganth sighed. "I did not want to press my luck with these hobs, but if they truly are preparing for an invasion, we need to do something to stop it. Killing this Bash will throw the hobs into confusion, and we can take advantage of that in Fort Gaston. It will give us time to mobilize the militia. We could even send a strike force back over here to take care of the rest of these thugs."

Bloom snorted. "Good luck finding anybody over there willing to cross over to the Hill! Aren't most people in Gaston scared to death of it?"

"They might no longer be," Deft said, "once they learn the truth about what's going on over here. Instead of facing dragons, evil magic-users, and undead, they'll know they're only facing goblins and hobgoblins."

"They will come," Ganth snarled, "even if I have to drag them over here by myself! But even if they do not, we can just sit and wait for an invasion, and deal with the monsters then. The hobs will have to cross the river in boats, and when they do, we can take them out with arrows."

"Then let's get this rescue underway," Deft said.

"Agreed. Let's move out."

"What about the goblin?" Bloom grinned at the dwarf. "Are you truly going to let him go?"

The dwarf scowled at her. "Of course I am! I vowed to my goddess! Do not worry, Bloom, this little fellow will run as fast as he can, for as long as he can, and he will never come back here."

The dwarf scowled down at the goblin. "Will, you, you little rat?"

The goblin shook his head in terror. "No, I swear! I will run away, far away, and never return! I promise!"

"Good! Then get up, and get out of my sight! And if I or anyone else ever catches wind of you around here, we'll slay you on sight, got it?"

The goblin stood up, crouching low, his arms wrapped protectively around his body. He nodded vigorously. Twix opened the door, and with a squeal, the goblin ran out the door.

"I guess you showed him," Bloom laughed. "But we'd better be quick in the catacombs. I don't trust goblins any farther than I can throw them."

She smiled sweetly at the magic-user. "Present company excluded."

Ganth watched the goblin run into the trees, then he waved his party onward.

They left the barracks, and Runt spoke up.

"Master Ganth, I have a plan for getting past the guards."

"Do tell, Master Runt!"

"My plan is to dress up like one of those soldiers out there, and run into the guard room, shouting about enemy forces on the prowl outside the monastery walls. The hobs should fall for it, unless they are smart enough to realize they've never seen me before. But hobgoblins don't take much notice of goblins, seeing them as barely worthy of the gift of existence, so we've got that going for us. At worse, they'll see through the ruse, and we'll end up fighting them. At best, they will run out of the monastery, and we can then slip past them."

"That's fine," Deft said, "but what do we do about the return trip? Your diversion most likely won't keep them away from their post for long."

"True," said Runt, "but by then, our numbers will hopefully be supplemented by two, making it easier for us to battle our way past the guards, if we must. Master Glintspear, do your son and his friend have any military experience?"

The dwarf nodded. "Gareth has martial training, yes. He will be able to wield a weapon. So can Cullen, but his training was never by any means formal."

"It will have to do," the goblin smiled.

"One question," Bloom said. "Where do we hide while you're duping the guards? We obviously can't let them see us."

The magic-user glanced at his map. "The room to the east of the dining hall. You can hide in there, and as soon as the guards leave their post, we'll slip down into the cellars."

They made their way to the tangled garden, and Runt stripped one of the bodies, putting on the dead soldier's garb and leather shirt. He strapped the short sword's baldric across his chest, and picked up the wooden shield.

"You look just like any old stinking goblin," Bloom smiled.

They walked to the southern wall of the monastery, where four evenly-spaced wooden doors stood closed. The prisoner had said that the second door from the right was the way to the stairs that led into the dungeon.

Runt turned to the cleric. "Sir Ganth, the goblin described an old library inside the monastery. Can we take a look inside? Libraries are the perfect place to find magical scrolls and spell books."

"We shall take a look," the cleric grumbled. "Just do not take all day. We have a job to do."

"I completely understand, Master Glintspear. I will take hardly any time at all."

Ganth opened the door. It led into a long chamber with doors leading off on the east and west walls. The room held rows of long tables and benches, ruined and crumbling, covered by a greenish yellow mold.

"You'd think the hobs would have cleaned up this dump," Bloom said, studying the mold.

"They're used to living in filth," the dwarf growled. "It's too bad. The stone looks good in this building. If we can drive out the hobs, I might talk to some of my order about taking over the place. Turn it into a guard post."

Deft unsheathed his sword and ignited it, which gave off enough light for them to see inside the dim interior of the monastery. They left the dining hall through the western door, and entered a rectangular room with another door set next to the one through which they had entered. This was the library. The walls of the chamber were lined with debris-laden shelves. In the center of the floor lay a large pile of garbage.

Bloom dug through the pile of garbage, which seemed to be made up of rotting books. Runt and Twix searched the shelves, which contained more tomes and scrolls in various stages of decomposition. The bard crowed in triumph, and held up a white, ivory scroll tube with a wax stopper. He broke the seal and removed the parchment, which was four feet long in total, and contained four spells.


	9. Chapter 8 (Dwarf at the Forge)

Runt scanned the scrolls, realizing immediately that they were clerical prayers. He brought them over to the cleric.

"These are indeed divine spells. They shall certainly aid us in our quest."

The dwarf and the others waited patiently for the goblin and the bard to conclude their search of the library. They found no further scrolls or books, and Runt called off the search, disappointment apparent in his watery eyes.

"I was hoping perhaps to find an entire spell book!" he whispered to Deft. The fighter smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Sorry, Runt. You're looking in the right place. It's just that this place has probably been looted scores of times in the past."

"Nobody bothered looting the library before," Twix said, "or they'd have found that scroll. But I guess today's our lucky day, or at least Sir Ganth's."

The dwarf opened the door to the left of the one they'd entered through, which opened into a long garden.

No roof blocked the sun's rays from this part of the monastery, where the atmosphere seemed somehow peaceful and quiet. Around the perimeter of the restful spot, placed in an orderly fashion, stood nine large birch trees.

The ground below was covered by a thick cushion of grass and flowers. In the center lay a pool, and at its south end, a fountain splashed into a shallow bowl. From a spout in the bowl, the water flowed back to the long pool. The water was crystal-clear, and looked cool and refreshing. The stones lining the sides and bottom of the pool were a glistening white, and reflections of the birch leaves danced in the shimmering surface.

Ganth turned to the western wall, directly to the right of the door through which they'd entered. The goblin had told him there was a secret door here, that led to the inner rooms of the monastery. The dwarf studied the wall, and soon located the pressure point. He touched it, and a stone door swung silently open. Beyond lay a hallway that stretched off into darkness, with a closed door twenty paces down on the northern wall. Behind this door sat the guards, consisting of six goblins and six hobgoblins. Beyond the guardroom, a set of stone stairs led down into the cellars and the hobgoblin lair.

The dwarf pointed to the door. "There is the entrance to the guard room. Runt, are you ready to put your plan into action?"

"I am," the magic-user nodded, his face set in firm resolution.

"Give us a few minutes to get out of sight," Ganth said.

The others went back to the dining hall, and opened the door that led off the eastern wall. They entered the square room beyond, and shut the door behind them.

A shattered oven and much broken pottery lay strewn about the room. In the southeast corner lay a large pile of garbage. Two giant rats stood atop the pile, lifting their noses and sniffing as the party entered the room. They quickly turned and ran behind the pile of trash, disappearing from sight.

"Ugh!" Bloom cried. "Rats! Disgusting! Did you see the size of them? They were bigger than a cat!"

"Quiet," Deft urged. The woman shuddered in disgust, and put her hand to her sword.

They stood clustered around the closed door, and soon, they heard a loud voice shouting in the Goblin tongue, accompanied by the sound of many booted feet running past the door. They waited for a minute longer before opening the door and hurrying back into the garden. Runt stood grinning at them.

"Success! I told them the monastery was being invaded by soldiers from Fort Gaston!"

"Good job, Runt," the cleric said. "But let us continue on before they return!"

The group entered the guardroom. Twelve plain, wooden bunks lay against the walls, and in the center of the room sat a table and two benches. The table was strewn with copper coins and a pair of crudely fashioned bone dice.

They hurried to the end of the room, where a wooden door stood closed. Ganth opened it. They stood in a small chamber with a set of stairs descending to their left.

They hurried down the stairs, which descended for a hundred feet before ending in a ten foot wide passageway that ran north and south. Lit torches sat in sconces at regular intervals on the stairs and the tunnel it led into.

Ganth pointed to the northern passage, which turned west ten feet past the stairway. "Cullen's cell lies that way, but we shall go there after we rescue Gareth. Get into marching order. Twix and I in the first rank, Deft in the second, and Bloom and Runt in the rear."

They assembled themselves in the proper order, and Ganth led them down the southern tunnel. After twenty paces, it split to the east and the west. They turned west. The tunnel led for ninety paces before ending at a junction of passageways. Forty paces away, on the southern wall, another corridor opened up.

Ganth pointed, and whispered. "That hallway leads directly into the forge."

As they stood listening, they heard the sounds of hammering, and a loud voice shouting in a strange language.

"That'll most likely be the bugbear," Deft said.

They discussed a quick plan of attack. Bloom moved up to the corridor that led to the forge and peeked into the hallway. She came quickly back.

"There's a thirty foot passageway that leads into the forge," she said. "A hob is standing at the entryway, with his back to us. Want me to sneak up on him and stick him?"

"Let me take the shot," Twix said. If I can drop him, that's one less hob to worry about. How many did the goblin say there were?"

"Eight hobs and one bugbear," said the dwarf. "All right, Twix, go to it. Everyone get ready."

The bard turned to Deft. "You take a shot too."

The fighter nodded. They nocked arrows to their bows and leaned out into the corridor. Taking their time to aim, they both loosed their arrows on the count of three. Deft's flew wide, but Twix's stabbed deep into the hob's neck. The body crumpled to the ground. They could see into the room now, and there was another hob standing in the middle of the chamber directly within their line of sight. They nodded to each other and both fired again. Deft missed, but Twix hit his mark. The hob howled in pain, but his screams were drowned out by the sounds of hammering and the roar of the flames. He whirled around towards the door, his eyes bulging out of his head in surprise as he noticed the intruders.

The archers fired a third volley. Deft missed again, and cursed vehemently, but the bard's arrow stabbed into the hob's skull and dropped him.

"Move!" Ganth ordered, and the group hustled down the hallway, stopping near the entrance to forge. At any second, someone would notice the downed hobs.

They peered through the entrance, taking quick stock of the situation inside the forge. Four huge furnaces burned along the west wall of the large chamber. The air was sooty and smoky, and smelled like coal and hot metal. The fires were heating various pieces of metal, which were being forged into weapons. Working in the forge were eight hobgoblins, one bugbear, and a dirty dwarf, imprisoned by a ball and chain attached to his ankle.

"Gareth!" Ganth said quietly. "I'm coming, nephew."

The bugbear overseer carried a large club. The creature looked like a seven foot tall, hairy goblin with reddish-brown fur, and greenish-white eyes with red pupils. The overseer bellowed and cursed at his workers. Four hobs were tending the fires, with two more hobs carrying ingots of iron over to the forges. All of the hobs had short swords at their belts. Gareth stood hammering at a sword blade at the southernmost fire. He was close to three of the hobs. The bugbear stood between the second and third fire.

All this they saw in a few seconds, then they attacked. Deft fired at the bugbear. Twix fired at the hob nearest Gareth, both arrows striking him in the neck and dropping him. Bloom quaffed a Potion of Invisibility and promptly disappeared from sight. Ganth stood ready to charge, waiting until the magic-user cast his spell.

The goblin held forth the scroll of spells the old ladies had given him, and he chanted the words on one of the pages. He pointed his finger at the clump of three hobs in the northwest corner of the room. A ball of cobwebs flew from his finger and exploded in the midst of the hobs, enveloping them and the bugbear.

Gareth, looking up and seeing his uncle with some other warriors, turned and hurled his forge hammer at the bugbear with all the strength he could muster. It hit the monster in the shoulder, but the bugbear seemed to shrug it off. Bloom, invisible, moved to engage on of the hobs near Gareth. She stabbed with all her might at the hob's heart, but the thing's leather vest was too strong for her sword to penetrate. The magic of the potion ended, since she had made an attack, and the hob was more than a little surprised to see the redhead suddenly appear in front of him.

Quartz picked up another hammer and smashed at the hob nearest him. He caught the thing in the shoulder with his heavy hammer and was satisfied to hear bones crunch.

Twix fired at the bugbear, one of his arrows taking it in the leg. The monster howled in pain, and struggled to pull himself out of the webs. He was at the very edge of the area of the spell, and the bard knew he would be able to pull himself free of the webs in the next few seconds.

Ganth charged to engage the other hob standing near his nephew, and the hob pulled out his sword and met the dwarf's attack. Their weapons clanged together as they met together in fierce battle. Deft, out of arrows, unsheathed Cinder, ignited it, and raced to help Ganth with his foe.

Bloom turned her attention to the bugbear, who had gotten free of the webs. Twix shot two more arrows at the beast, hoping to take him down quickly. One of his arrows thunked into the monster's gut, but he still stood. The distraction gave Bloom the second she needed to stab her sword deep into the bugbear's gut. The creature bellowed in pain and doubled over, then slid backwards off Bloom's sword and crashed to the floor. The thief cheered and raised her bloody sword. Around her, Deft, Ganth and Gareth were fighting the last two hobs. She moved to help Gareth, hoping to be able to stick her sword into the hob's back, since it was engaged with the dwarf and had his back to her.

Ganth dropped his hob with a devastating blow to the head that split the hob's skull like a walnut. Now there was only one hob left. Bloom ran up to him and stabbed her sword deep into his back. The hob's head jerked back, and he dropped to the ground.

Deft glanced quickly around. Of the three hobs in Runt's magical web, only two were still struggling to get free. The bugbear and the other five hobs were dead.

"Keep watch!" Ganth called to Twix and Runt, who still stood in the doorway of the room. Deft hurried around the room, pulling arrows out of dead hobs and picking up those that had missed their mark. He grimly went over to the hobs in the web and fired arrows at them at close range until they were both dead. He was out of arrows, but Twix still had some, and he returned them to the halfling.

Bloom quickly poked around the room, looking for magic items or valuables, but there was nothing else in the room except for two large piles of iron bars, a pile of firewood, a pile of coal, and rack of metalworking tools consisting of tongs, hammers, anvils, and pry bars. A door in the southeastern corner of the room led into a small room furnished with a simple bed, table, and chair.

Ganth embraced his nephew in a great bear-hug, and Gareth groaned. The cleric pulled back to see his nephew was wounded in two places. He quickly pulled out a Potion of Healing from his pack and gave it to Gareth.

"Drink this. It will heal you. Then we need to get out of here."

Gareth pulled the cork out of the bottle and drank the viscous contents. "Thank you, uncle. Now you may hug me."

The two embraced for a long while. Ganth fought back tears. "I never thought I would see you again, you fool! I hope you learned your lesson!"

"I did, uncle. I swear I did."

They pulled away, and Gareth hung his head, tears streaming from his eyes. "It was awful. They told me they'd kill me if I didn't work the forges for them. Cullen…he couldn't take it. He tried to run off, but they caught him. He's dead, uncle. They killed him."

Ganth's face went grim. Even though he had never liked Cullen, thinking him a no good troublemaker, he was sorry for his nephew that his friend was dead.

"There was nothing you could have done. You are lucky yourself to be alive."

Deft walked up to them. "We should be getting out of here."

He extended his hand to Gareth. "I'm Deft Bladehaft."

"Gareth Ironhand. Pleased to meet you."

Gareth looked like a younger version of Ganth, and it was obvious they were related.

"The woman is Bloom, and over near the door we have Twix Relkin the halfling and Runt the magic-user."

Gareth bowed low. "I owe you all my life. It is a debt that I can never repay, but I will do my best. I am at your service."

"You are quite welcome," Deft smiled.

The group hurried over to the doorway.

"What now?" Twix asked. "I'm going after Bash. I could use some help, if you guys are game."

Ganth frowned. "I do not know, Twix. My quest was to rescue my nephew from these degenerates."

The rest agreed to accompany the bard, and with that, Ganth assented. He didn't want to let Gareth out of his sight until they were safely across the river.

"I suppose we will be doing Fort Gaston a favor, by wiping out the enemy's king. The hobs will not know what to do, and we can return here with a strong force and wipe out the rest of the hobs."

"Sounds good to me," Gareth said grimly. "I have a score to settle with these bastards."

"So do I," Twix said, his brown eyes glinting. "I want that hob king's head, whether it's Bash or not. The only good hob is a dead hob."

"Is anyone else injured?" Deft asked. He noticed Bloom had a slash on her arm. She saw him looking at her and grinned wryly.

"It's just a flesh wound. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure? We've got enough healing potions and berries…"

"And we should have them for when we really need them."

The fighter shrugged. "Suit yourself."

They came up with a quick plan of attack against the king, who had two bodyguards with him at all times, according to the goblin they'd interrogated. Deft was out of arrows. Twix offered him some of his.

"Thanks, Twix, but no. You're a way better archer that I am. I'll fight with my sword.

"Should we hide these bodies?" Bloom asked.

"If we do," Runt said, "we'll have to wait half an hour for my spell to dissipate, before we can move the hobs trapped within the webs."

"We do not have the luxury of time," said the cleric. "Leave the bodies. It is only a matter of time before the hobs realize we are here.


	10. Chapter 9 (King Bash)

They left the forge, consulted the goblin's crude map, and turned left. The corridor led for fifty paces before branching off into two tunnels, one leading south, the other southwest.

They took the southwestern tunnel, which ran straight for fifty paces and turned due south. They walked down a long corridor, silent, lit by torches, and saw no signs of any hobgoblins.

After fifty yards, the corridor ended at a closed wooden door, with a second door set into the wall to their left. Bloom listened at the southern door, but heard nothing behind it.

They carefully opened the door, and the corridor continued south and turned left after forty paces. This hallway ran east to a closed door, and a passage opened up to their right, ten paces down the corridor.

The turned right, walking south for twenty five paces, before turning east. This hallway ran for forty yards, passing two intersecting hallways, and ended at a huge set of double doors.

Bloom put her ear to the doors for half a minute, then turned to the others.

"It sounds like they're having a party in there. I'm figuring about ten hobs. Do we press on?"

"Of course," Ganth said. "Now remember, Runt, to cast that spell."

"I already have the material component in hand," the goblin said, his eyes watering fiercely.

"All right." The dwarf sucked in a deep breath. "This is it. Hit the door!"

Deft shouldered one of the massive wooden doors, and it swung open. He surveyed the room in three quick seconds. Against the far wall, some fifty feet distant, a huge hobgoblin sat on a wooden throne carved from some black wood, with two guards armed with spears standing on either side of the throne. Standing in front of the throne, with its back to the party, was a human sized figure in a grey cloak, with the hood pulled up over its head. Six other hobs were seated around a huge burning fire in the middle of the vast room.

The king, who had perfect line of sight to the door, shouted out a warning in his own tongue, before standing up on the throne and brandishing a huge broad sword.

The party spilled into the room, leaving room for Runt to cast his spell without any of them getting in the way. The goblin spoke a litany of magic words as his hands gestured in bizarre patterns. In his hand he held a rotten egg, and he threw it towards the fire pit. The egg streaked through the air, and exploded over the fire pit, creating a huge cloud of greenish vapor that enveloped the six hobgoblins sitting around it. Immediately they fell to the ground, choking and vomiting, clutching their burning eyes.

With cries of defiance, the others charged towards the king and his soldiers.

Deft ran across the room, swerving to avoid the green cloud, and set his sights on the figure in black. It turned around, and the fighter saw a dirty, gray face peeking out of the hood of the robe.

His eyes and mouth opened in surprise, and Deft saw that his teeth were filed to sharp points. Beneath the cloak, he wore a full suit of plate armor. Deft assumed he was a human male, but he couldn't be sure. It didn't much matter who he was.

The guards stepped forward and brought their spears to bear to protect their king. Ganth and Twix engaged the one to the left of the throne, and Gareth and Bloom took the other. The sound of metal clashing on wood filled the hall. One of the guards screamed in pain. Deft focused on the enemy before him, who pulled a mace from his belt. At least he wasn't a magic-user, since they usually didn't carry weapons, and when they did, it was usually a dagger, staff, or sling.

A streaking bolt of energy suddenly flew over Deft's shoulder and struck the hooded one in the legs. He snarled in rage and pain, and leaped at the fighter. Before he could bring up his sword to block, the mace caught him in the side. His chain mail armor was good protection against arrows and swords, but not so much against blunt weapons. The breath flew out of his body, and when he inhaled, sharp pain lanced through his side. It felt like some of his ribs were fractured or broken. Deft went on the offensive, but whenever he got a strike in on the hooded one, his sword struck chain or plate armor. Focusing on striking at his head, Deft managed to slip in a chop that grazed the top of the man's head. The hooded one shrieked and crumpled to the ground.

Deft looked up to see King Bash leap off his throne and go for Ganth. The fighter called out a warning, and the dwarf disengaged from the guard to face the king. They fought furiously, neither of them gaining any ground, then the dwarf got a strike in on the king's shoulder. Bash grunted, and furiously went on the offensive.

The hobs around the fire staggered out of the green cloud of stench, but they fell to the ground again, gagging. One of them fell right in front of the magic-user. He cast another spell, and leaned down to touch the hob's head. The brute suddenly screamed and convulsed as an electrical charge went through his entire body. He went limp, his body smoking. Runt wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Deft attacked the guard that Twix was fighting. Ganth was not only holding his against Bash, but he was winning. The hob was too large and slow, and the dwarf got several good strikes in while easily blocking with his shield the king's furious swings.

Behind him, the other guard suddenly shrieked in agony, and the scream was abruptly cut off. That was a death cry, the fighter thought to himself.

Having killed one hob, Runt leaped on the next closest one and began furiously stabbing him with his dagger. The hob was vomiting and choking, and his burning eyes were clenched shut, but he ineffectually tried to grab Runt's knife hand and stop the deadly assault.

The guard fighting against Deft and Twix was losing badly, and as he engaged the fighter, Twix got in an overhand chop to the monster's back. The axe blade sank through the guard's leather armor and into his spine. The guard crumpled.

Suddenly Ganth cried out in pain, as Bash got in a lucky swipe that clipped the side of the dwarf's head. Blood ran down the side of his head, and he staggered, lowering his defenses. Bash raised his great sword to bring it slamming down on the dwarf's head.

Shouting to distract the king, Deft ran up behind him and stabbed with all his might. His sword sank into the king's leather cuirass, but it was far from a mortal blow.

Gareth suddenly appeared to Deft's left, and the king was surrounded. He withdrew to the wall behind him, snarling and swinging his great sword. He was trapped, and he knew it.

The two dwarfs, the fighter and the bard assailed him with all their strength and skill, but even facing off against four opponents, the king held his own. He took several minor wounds, and suddenly got his revenge when Twix fumbled a swing with his axe. The broad sword slammed down on the halfling's head, and Twix shrieked in pain.

"Fall, you filthy bastard!" Deft cried, doubling his strokes. The two dwarfs closed in, while Twix dropped his axe, staggered a few feet, and collapsed. Bash began screaming at the top of his lungs in his own tongue, and went into a frenzy, lashing out with his huge sword.

The three remained calm, and that was the king's undoing. He was lashing out in a rage, not fighting with any strategy. He knew it was the end.

And that end came right after the thought left Deft's mind.

Gareth suddenly rushed in, swinging his hammer at the great sword. It went flying from the king's hand and clattered on the floor. Bash snarled and prepared to throw himself bodily against the dwarf, but before he could, the dwarf screamed and brought the hammer down right on his face. Bash's head cracked, and his face was caved in. He fell back against the wall, and slowly sank down it as his legs gave out beneath him.

With the sudden silence, Deft heard hobs shrieking behind him. He whirled around and saw that Runt and Bloom were taking out the gagging and choking hobs. The fighter looked at all his friends to see if any of them needed immediate aid. Bloom, Runt, and Gareth were unscathed. Twix and Ganth were bleeding from their head wounds, and Deft's breath came in short, painful gasps. He dropped his flaming sword to the ground and sank down, groaning.

Ganth dropped his mace and pulled off his backpack, rummaging through the contents. He pulled out several small bottles, and he and Gareth distributed them.

Deft uncorked one of his bottles and drank down the contents. The pain immediately subsided, and the fighter got back to his feet. While Runt and Bloom were finishing off the hobs, the fighter ran to the door and shut it, in case any hobs had heard the fight and were coming to investigate. He stayed by the door, since there was no lock.

Ganth and Twix each drank a Potion of Healing, and their wounds were instantly cured. They took stock of their situation, glancing at the bloody corpses of the king and his bodyguards. Twix walked up to Bash's body and kicked it.

"That's for my father, my mother, my two brothers, my sister, my aunt, my uncle, and my four cousins, you jerk! I hope you burn in the Nine Hells for all eternity."

"It's over," Ganth sighed.

"Not yet," Bloom grinned. "Now comes the fun part, searching for treasure!"

The thief and the goblin searched the bodies, examining their weapons and gear. The only items that showed any promise were four keys that the king had in his belt pouch, one of the bodyguard's spears and a key he had in his belt, and golden ring set with a ruby that Bash had been wearing.

While the dwarfs sat on the floor and shared some water from the cleric's skin, Twix went over to guard the door with Deft while Bloom and Runt searched for treasure.

There were two closed doors in the great hall in the northern end, and they were locked. Using the keys, the two were able to open both doors. The room in the northeast part of the chamber held a large, blush bed, a table, a wooden chair, and two soft armchairs. Three woolen tapestries hung from the walls. Bloom looked at them with interest. They were of shoddy craftsmanship, but also colorful. They depicted battle scenes in which King Bash's heroic exploits were prominently featured. The thief chuckled, and wondered if they'd be worth anything.

Bloom and Runt searched the room thoroughly, but didn't find anything of interest. They went to the other door, unlocked it, and walked into a room similar to the first. Two soft beds, a table, two chairs, and a wooden chest were the only items of furniture in the chamber. The table held a bottle of wine and two glasses.

The thief examined the bottle of wine, and took a sniff. It seemed to be a good vintage, but she wasn't about to drink anything that hobgoblins had their filthy paws on. Her attention was on the chest.

Bloom knelt in front of the chest and examined it carefully. Even though she thought the hobgoblins were too stupid to create any sort of an elaborate trap, the last thing the thief needed was to die from a poison needle trap.

After a thorough examination, she stuck the key into the lock and turned it. She moved around to the back of the chest and opened it slowly. Nothing happened.

Sighing in relief, she rummaged through the chest. It held two woolen cloaks, two short swords, a large sack, and a sapphire necklace. She took these out and lay them on the floor, then picked up the sack and dumped the contents onto the floor. I was filled with coins, mostly silver and gold pieces. She did a quick estimation and figured their value, about one hundred and fifty golds. The necklace looked to be about five times that value.

The thief pocketed the necklace, scooped the coins back into their sack, and put the sack into her backpack. The swords were of ordinary quality, so they wouldn't be magical, and cloaks were old and moth-eaten.

Bloom and Runt returned to their pile of treasure, telling the dwarfs about the sack of coins they had found. The goblin pulled out his magic wand and waved it over the pile of items they had collected from the hobs. The ring and the spear glowed, but they had no way of knowing anything about their powers. The magic-user slipped the ring on his finger, thinking that perhaps it might reveal its powers if worn.

Deft noticed that Twix seemed troubled and introspective.

"Are you okay," he asked.

The bard turned towards him and smiled absently. "Sure. My wounds are all healed…"

"No, that's not what I meant."

The Halfling hung his head, staring at the floor. "Oh. Well…I don't really know. You see, I used to be a very happy and carefree halfling. Always whistling, always smiling. But after my village was wiped out…I guess I changed. The only way I could deal with it was making a vow to all my friends and family that I wouldn't rest until I had taken my revenge on the hobgoblins. I vowed I would kill every hob I ever came across. But the more hobs I killed, the worse I felt. I'm not like that, Deft. I'm not that kind of person. And now that Bash is dead…I don't know what to do, or how I feel. I'm relieved, in a way, but I don't feel as good as I thought I would. I mean, Bash is dead, but so are my friends and family. But I'm tired, Deft. So tired of holding onto the hate and the sorrow. It's killing me inside."

"Then maybe it's time to give up your vendetta," the fighter said softly. "Even if you slew every hob in the world, it won't bring your family back."

The bard sighed. "You're right. Absolutely right. I think I am going to give it up. Try to find the real me again."

"Maybe you could write a song or an epic poem about what happened to your family, and how you avenged them."

The bard glanced up at the fighter and grinned. "What a great idea! You'd think I would have thought of that already, being a bard and all. Thanks, Deft, for helping me kill Bash. You're a real nice guy, and I'm glad I met you. You know, I have an adventuring group, or I should say, I _belong_ to an adventuring group. It's not really mine. We're called the Righteous Rovers. Our leader is a paladin named Sara Bootblack. She's in the Most Holy Order of the Silver Staff. Then there's Gurp. He's a ranger and a druid, as well as a half-ogre. Dumb as a rock, but he's a real softie. We're looking to expand our membership. I'd be honored if you would join us."

Deft grinned. "Thanks, Twix! I wholeheartedly accept. I've never known an ogre who was a ranger as well as a druid."

"I'll ask the others, too. You're all nice people. I consider you all my friends."

Having finished their treasure hunting, Bloom and Runt, followed by the dwarfs, walked over to the others. Runt held a long, beautifully-crafted spear.

"Is that magical?" the bard asked.

"Sure is," Bloom grinned. "It'll bring a pretty price."

"Let us leave this place," Ganth said. "Once we return to the fort, we shall get a force together, and return here to wipe out the rest of the hobs."

They left the royal hall of King Bash, glad that their adventure was over. They had rescued Gareth, and King Bash was dead.


	11. Chapter 10 (Emperor of the Lower World)

As they walked down the hallway, Deft was struck by a sudden thought. What had happened the black-robed man? The fighter realized that he hadn't seen him at any point after he struck him down. Was he hiding behind the throne, perhaps?

He mentioned it to the others, and they stopped.

"Should we go back?" Twix asked.

Ganth sighed. "Forget about him. We shall get him when we come back. I just want to get back home and have a nice hot meal and a couple mugs of ale. Deft, take rear guard, though, in case he tries to sneak up on us."

"Who was that guy, anyway?" Bloom asked.

"He was human, I think," said Deft. "Although he looked half goblin, too. He was wearing armor and carried a mace, so he was either a cleric or some type of fighter. I cut his arm and he dropped like a stone. He was probably feigning death."

Moray Vaco hit the ground when the fighter attacking him slashed his head. He hoped the man would think he was already dead and not stab him to make sure. Luckily for him, the man ran to fight the hobs, sparing the cleric from a painful death. As the sounds of battle erupted around him, Vaco reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small glass vial. He pulled the cork out with his teeth, and swallowed the contents. It was a Potion of Invisibility, and it was going to save his life.

The cleric became invisible, and instantly rose up and ran for the doors. He avoided the greenish cloud, and slipped past the goblin, who heard him running towards him, but could see nothing. He didn't waste any time trying to strike him down. Moray's only thoughts were on escape. He ran through the doors and down the corridor.

The attack had taken him completely by surprise. He had no idea who these people were, but he did recognize the dwarf that the hobs had captured and forced to work in the forge. Perhaps they were friends of this dwarf.

At this point, it didn't matter. Vaco could find out who they were, once he was safe. He was known in Fort Gaston, but under a different identity. His thoughts went immediately to revenge. Who were these people? What gave them the right to invade his territory and slaughter his congregation? They would pay. Oh yes, they would certainly pay.

The cleric turned the corner and raced up the passageway. So engrossed was he with his ideas of the perfect revenge, that he totally forgot about the king's pit trap. It was a defensive measure the king had had installed in case of hostile invasion. From his throne, he could pull a level that would active a set of twenty foot long trapdoors. Anyone stepping on the edge of one of the hidden doors would be deposited in the natural rocky maze several hundred feet below. The king must have activated it once the attack began.

The door below Vaco's feet suddenly opened, and he fell on his back, sliding down the trap door and into the chute. He cursed himself for his stupidity, but he wasn't too worried. In a way, this might actually work out for the best. He knew the layout of what lay at the bottom of this trap. He had been there many times and had thoroughly explored the area. Because of that knowledge, he knew what awaited those bastards. They would die, and die painfully.

The party reached the end of the corridor and turned right. They had only walked fifteen paces before the floor suddenly opened beneath them. They fell on their backs and slid down the door, landing in a rocky, downward spiraling chute with a smooth floor. In a jumble of bodies and weapons, they slid down the chute, powerless to stop themselves. Deft managed to hold onto Cinder, and it lit their way as they descended. The fighter was frantically hoping that this chute wasn't leading to a fatal fall into a dark pit. In few more seconds, he had his answer.

They landed hard, on a hard surface. Deft sat up quickly, just in case the trap had dumped them into a room full of monsters. Luckily, that wasn't the case. They found themselves in an octagonal chamber, with eight doors on the walls, one for each point of the compass. The doors were all wooden with rusting hinges and handles.

"Is everyone okay?" Ganth groaned, getting to his feet and retrieving his mace and shield. The others rose, checking themselves for injuries. They all had bumps, scrapes and scratches from the fall down the chute, but that was the extent of their injuries.

Bloom glanced around the chamber. "Where in the Nine Hells are we?"

"It's obviously some underground chamber," Deft said.

"I see that. How do we get out?" The thief looked up to the ceiling, which was ten feet above them.

They all stared at the opening in the ceiling. At last, Runt spoke. "You're the tallest among us, Deft," the goblin said. "Perhaps if Bloom could stand up on your shoulders, she could pull herself up into the chute."

Deft chuckled. At five feet and seven inches, no one had ever called him tall before.

They tried this, but there was no way Bloom could get enough of a grip to pull herself up into the chute. And even if she had, it was far too smooth for her to climb it.

"We may as well explore," the cleric said. "This place has doors, so it must be inhabited."

"Yeah," Bloom smirked. "By more hobs!"

"Which door?" Deft asked.

The dwarf was about to answer, when the southwest door suddenly pulled open. Two men, filthy and unshaven, ran wildly into the room, a maniacal gleam in their eyes. One wore a cuirass of fine leather armor and carried a sword. The other had no armor and wielded a battle axe.

The party was taken totally by surprise, but they were swift to recover when the men attacked them. They went after Ganth and Deft, who already had their weapons in hand. It was a brief skirmish. The men fought wildly and without discipline. Ganth felled his foe with a blow to his head, and Deft gutted his opponent.

"Damn!" the dwarf said, frowning down at his foe. "I did not want to kill him, just knock him out."

"Who are these guys?" Twix said, examining their bodies. They looked like normal humans, but their hair and beards were long and unkempt. They were dressed like adventurers.

The halfling ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "Oh my goodness."

The dwarf turned to look at him. "What is it?"

"What if these two were adventurers who got dumped down here like we did? They look like they've been down here for a long time."

"Well, we won't starve," Bloom grinned. "If they've been down here for months, they've found something to eat."

"I don't want to think of what that could be," Deft said. He was starting to feel apprehensive about this situation. "There's got to be a way out of here."

"There is," said Runt. The others all looked at him. "Remember the Potion of Gaseous Form that the ladies gave us? One of us could drink that, float up the chute, then hang a rope down for the others to use to climb up."

"That would work," the dwarf frowned, "if any of us had any rope."

The goblin hung his head, and blinked his large, watery eyes. Then he grinned and looked up at his friends. "The person who escapes could go back to the fort, get enough rope, and come back."

"That is a good plan," Ganth said. "Except the person who leaves will be alone in hostile territory."

"We can use that plan as a last resort," said the bard. "If we can't find a way out of here on this level."

Deft blew out a breath, happy that they wouldn't be trapped down here forever.

Bloom, always on the lookout for treasure, examined the bodies of the men. The weapons were of average quality, but the leather cuirass one of them wore seemed to be a high quality piece. The magic-user waved his wand over it, and it began to glow.

"Magic!" Bloom cried. "And since I'm the only one that wears leather, it's mine!"

No one gave any objections. Bloom took off her cuirass and slipped on the magic one. It fit her perfectly, even though it had been much larger when it was on the man. Many wearable magical items were imbued with that quality; they would change size according to the wearer.

"Are we done here?" Ganth grumbled. "If we are going to explore," the dwarf said, "we may as well start with the door these poor fellows came through."

They all agreed, and passed through the doorway. It led into a winding tunnel with rough, rocky walls. It ran for about thirty yards before taking a sharp, right turn. There was no natural light, but Cinder brightened their way. They could see a light flickering against the wall from around the corner.

They all stopped suddenly.

"Looks like a light from a fire," Twix whispered.

"I'll go check it out," Bloom said.

"Be careful," Deft called out after her. She didn't respond.

The thief slipped around the corner of the tunnel, returning a minute later.

"Those guys we killed aren't the only ones down here," she reported. There's a cave up ahead with five more of them."

"We should talk to them," said Ganth. "If they are trapped here, we may be able to help them find an escape. At the least, we can take them with us if we need to implement Runt's plan."

"What if they attack us, like the last two did?" Gareth said. The dwarf had been quiet, barely saying anything after they rescued him. Perhaps he was still recovering from his ordeal at the hands of the hobgoblins. Plus his friend Cullen had been killed. The fighter couldn't help feeling sorry for the young dwarf.

Ganth snorted. "Nephew, there are only five of them. The other two seemed to be out of their mind. If these others are of the same mental condition, they will prove to be easy foes."

"I don't want to fight them if we don't have to," Deft said. "Everyone put your weapons away and keep your hands away from them. We'll try to be diplomatic. And don't mention those men we killed."

They all agreed to the plan, and as a group, they turned the corner of the tunnel. It continued on into darkness up ahead, but they could see an opening a few paces up ahead on the left side of the passage. Deft and Ganth took the lead. They turned into the new tunnel, which led into a large, wide cavern. A blazing fire burned in the middle of the cave, with four men sitting around it. They looked similar to the other two, all human males with unkempt hair and beards. At the far end of the cave, a large man sat on a crude stone chair that looked to have been carved into some semblance of a throne. The man had long hair and beard, and was wrapped in a tattered purple blanket.

The five men heard the party coming before they saw them, and they all whipped their heads towards the cave mouth. The men around the fire leaped up and picked up their weapons, two swords, a mace, and a war hammer. The man on the throne leaped up and quickly armed himself with a long staff. They all had the wild-eyed look of the two that had attacked them.

The party stopped, and Deft held up his hands. "We come in peace! We fell down the shaft, and are just trying to find our way out of here. Are you stuck down here as well?"

The men seemed to relax a little, but Deft wasn't sure what they were going to do.

The man in the carpet spoke in a loud, commanding voice. "Who seeks an audience with Deriwinki the Third? Kneel, peons!"

"Are you serious?" Ganth muttered.

The man's face twisted in rage. "Impudent swine! You shall know the wrath of the Emperor of the Lower World! Guards, arrest them!"

The four men around the fire hefted their weapons and grimly strode forward to do battle.

"Kneel, you idiots!" Bloom said. "He's obviously insane."

Deft called out. "We are sorry, great Emperor Deriwinki the Third!" He fell to his knees, and the others followed suit. "We were overcome by the greatness of your presence!"

Deriwinki regarded them sternly, then smiled. "Guards, return to your posts!"

The men did so, but they didn't drop their weapons, and they kept their eyes on the intruders.

The Emperor spoke again. "Ah, my loyal subjects, feel free to approach my throne. I hope this day finds you happy and healthy. Why have you sought an audience with the Emperor of the Lower World?"

Deriwinki sat back on his throne, but still retained his staff.

"Let's get out of here," Bloom muttered. "The Dungeon Master over there is totally out of his mind."

"I don't want to offend the guy," Deft whispered.

They got back to their feet, and approached Deriwinki's throne, keeping alert to the threat of the four men behind them.

"My lord," Deft bowed. "We have unwittingly come into your kingdom, and, although your empire is vast and impressive, we are seeking to leave your realm and return to our homes."

The Emperor's eyes went dark, then he smiled magnanimously. "But why would you want to leave my wonderful realm?"

"Umm…as I said, my lord, we simply wish to return to our homeland."

Deriwinki seemed to consider this, and he waved his hand dismissively.

"You have my leave to go. But I hope you are not leaving because you are unhappy."

"Certainly not, my lord." The fighter bowed again, and the party turned and left the cave, turning left upon exiting.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Ganth grumbled.

As they walked up the tunnel, they heard the squeaking of rats, and small, dark shapes skittered away at the approach of the light from Deft's sword.

"Now we know what they eat," Twix grinned. "Gross. Probably tastes like chicken, just like halfling."

After forty paces, they saw a side tunnel branching off to the left, but it receded into darkness. After a quick discussion, they decided to avoid it, preferring to stay on as straight a course as they could.

"There is probably no way out of here," the dwarf said. "We could wander around this place for hours, and not get anywhere."

"As long as we can find the room with the chute, we'll be fine," Bloom said.

Soon, the tunnel opened up considerably, with another tunnel intersecting on their left. They continued forward.

"We're in a cave," Ganth said. No one disputed him. If there was one thing dwarfs know, it's stone.

They kept moving forward, staying near the wall to their right. Soon, they left the cave, and were back in a narrow tunnel.

The corridor ran on for a bit, ending at a wooden door, exactly like the ones in the octagonal chamber.

Bloom listened at the door, but could detect no sound behind it. Deft opened it, with the others standing ready with weapons in hand.

Beyond the door was an octagonal room, with eight doors, one at each point of the compass. They had entered through the northwestern door. The southwestern door was open, and two bodies lay on the floor.

"This is where we came down." Ganth pointed up to the chute in the ceiling. "This place is a maze. No wonder Deriwinkle and his crew haven't found a way out. There probably _is_ no way out."


	12. Chapter 11 (The Way Out)

"Should we send Runt for help?" Twix asked.

"No, not yet. I think we should explore further," said the cleric. "Perhaps there is a hidden exit from this maze, a secret door or something."

They decided to explore beyond the six other doors. They opened the north door, figuring they would start there and move clockwise.

The tunnel they found themselves in ran fairly straight for a while, then began to twist and turn like a snake. All was quiet except for the sounds of their boots hitting the floor, the jangling of their armor and weapons, and the squeaking of unseen rats ahead.

The tunnels twisted, turned, sloped up, and sloped down. Sometimes other passages intersected them, leading to other tunnels or caves. Each door they took inevitably led them back to the chute chamber. The north door brought them through the southeast door. The east door brought them to a dead end.

They searched for secret doors, the dwarf instructing the others on what to look for. They found nothing, so retraced their steps. The northeast door brought them through the west door.

There was only one more door to open, the southern one. Its tunnel curved to the right, and up ahead they saw a passage intersecting it from the left. The sound of squishing and squelching came from this tunnel, and when Deft looked down it, he saw something filling the passage that looked like a mass of transparent jelly. It was slowly moving down the tunnel.

"What in the Hells is that?" Bloom cried in disgust.

"You know," Twix said, "I've heard of this thing. It's called a gelatinous ooze. It was created long ago by a demented wizard, I think. He had a thing for jams and jellies."

"Is it dangerous?" Deft asked.

"It could be, if we went near it. If it touches us, we'll be paralyzed, and then it will gobble us up!"

"Good thing it's moving away," Bloom said. "Maybe it's an omen. Should we follow it?"

They all looked to Ganth, who shrugged. "Why the hell not? At this point it does not really matter. I am starting to get weary of these tunnels. If we do not find a way out soon, I say we implement Runt's plan."

The going was slow, because the ooze moved at half their walking speed. They kept a safe distance from it. They passed by a side tunnel, ignoring it. They had a feeling that if there was a way out of this maze, the cube would know it.

They soon reached the end of the passage, set with a wooden door. The ooze stopped, squeezing itself up against the wall. Once it realized it could go no further, and began moving the opposite way. The party had no choice but to retrace their steps. They ducked down the side tunnel and waited for the ooze to pass, hoping it didn't turn and come after them.

Their luck held, and the ooze passed them by. They walked to the door, and Bloom listened, her ear pressed to the wood.

"This can't be a door that leads to the chute room," Runt observed. "We left each door open as we passed through."

"Unless someone or something came in an closed them all," Ganth said.

"We'll soon find out," Bloom said. "I don't hear anything.

Twix opened the door, and they entered an octagonal room with eight doors, one at each point of the compass.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Ganth snarled. "There is magic at work here!"

Bloom grinned at him. "Nope. Look at the ceiling."

The dwarf craned his neck and frowned. "No chute."

"Exactly. This room looks exactly like the other one. No chute, and no bodies. Maybe this is why those guys are confused and can't find their way out of here."

They were all tired of walking down the humid tunnels, and it seemed that they had to do it all over again. They sat on the floor, eating some food and drinking some water. Twix examined his bandora. It had taken some damage in the fall down the chute.

'Oh no! There's a crack in it! Just like my butt!"

The bard launched into a bawdy tavern song.

 _I went into the chandler's shop, some candles for to buy._

 _I looked around the chandler's shop, but no one did I spy._

 _I was disappointed and some angry words I said._

 _Then I heard the sound of knock, knock, knock, above my head._

 _Well, I was slick and I was quick, and up the stairs I sped._

 _And much to my surprise I found the chandler's wife in bed._

 _And with her was another man of most gigantic size._

 _And they were having a knock, knock, knock, right before my eyes._

 _When the fun was over and done and the lady raised her head._

 _She was quite surprised to find me standing by the bed._

 _"_ _If you will be discreet, my lad, and if you would be so kind,_

 _I'll let you come up for some knock, knock, knock, whenever you feel inclined."_

 _So many a day and many a night, when the chandler wasn't home,_

 _To get myself some candles to the chandler's shop I'd roam._

 _But nary a one she gave to me, but gave to me instead,_

 _A little bit more of the knock, knock, knock, to light my way to bed._

 _So, all you married men take heed, if you ever come to town,_

 _If you must leave your woman alone, be sure to tie her down._

 _Or if you would be kind to her, just sit her on the floor._

 _Give her so much of that knock, knock, knock that she never needs no more!_

They all laughed uproariously at the song, everyone except Ganth.

"What's the matter, Sir Ganth?" the halfling grinned. "Did you lose your sense of humor?"

"That was not funny. It is a filthy tune."

"Everyone else thought it was funny, so there!" Twix stuck his tongue out at the cleric.

A bard's magic is in his music, and the song washed away their fears, worries, and frustrations, and bolstered their courage. They all felt ready to tackle the maze again, even Ganth, although he would never admit it.

They rested for a bit before continuing to search for a way out of the tunnels.

"I promise you all this," Deft. "We'll all be singing that song tonight in the Lion's Den Inn!"

They decided to go counter clockwise this time, and started down the southwest tunnel. It ran for thirty yards and then turned sharply to the left.

Suddenly the floor fell out from beneath Deft and Twix, who were in the lead, and they both plunged into a dark pit. Ganth and Gareth were right behind them, and they nearly fell in after them. Bloom reached out and grabbed them both, pulling them back away from the edge of the pit.

"Not again," the thief muttered. She stared down into the pit. Due to Deft's flaming sword, she could see that the pit was only ten feet deep.

"You guys all right?" she called.

The fighter and the bard lay groaning on the floor of the pit. They managed to pull out some of the healing raspberries, and munched them down, feeling the pain of their wounds lessen.

"At least I didn't land on my bandora this time," the bard muttered, standing up. He stared up at the others. "We still don't any rope, do we?"

"If you get on my shoulders, you'll be able to get out," said Deft. "As for me…"

"We can haul you out of there," Bloom said.

"I suggest that Master Twix climbs out on the far side of the pit," Runt said. "Perhaps the way out of this labyrinth lies beyond that corner. It makes sense. Otherwise, why would someone bother to put a pit trap down here?"

The bard set down his backpack, bandora, and axe, and clambered up Deft's back. It was easy for the lithe halfling to get on his shoulders. From there, he had an equally easy time of pulling himself out of the pit. Deft tossed his flaming sword up to him.

"You may need the light."

Twix grinned down at the fighter. "Thanks, Deft! Let me go take a look, see where this tunnel goes. Hopefully it goes to freedom!"

The bard turned the corner, and came right back, frowning. "Nope. Just a dead end."

"Check for secret doors!" Ganth called. "Like I showed you!"

"I know how to check for secret doors," the halfling muttered, but he did as the cleric asked.

"Nothing! If there's one here, it's well-hidden!"

Bloom turned to Ganth. "Do you want to go check yourself?"

The dwarf frowned. "I am not much for clambering in and out of pits. We can always come back here, if we do not find any other way out."

"Hey Bloom!" Twix cried. "How much you wanna bet I can jump clear across this pit?"

"No!" Deft cried. "Don't do it, you goof! You'll end up breaking your neck."

"Aww…all right. Coming down!"

The bard hung down the side of the pit, and Deft was able to safely grab him. Twix strapped on his pack and got back on the fighter's shoulders, and Ganth pulled the halfling out of the pit.

Deft tried to jump and grab the lip of the pit, but he couldn't reach.

Since Bloom was the second tallest, she lay down and hung her hands down into the pit. Deft tossed Cinder up to Gareth, who gave it to Runt to hold. The fighter grabbed Bloom's hands, and the dwarfs pulled the thief's body upwards and back. Bloom felt like her arms were going to rip out of their sockets, but after a few seconds, Deft had escaped the pit and released his grip.

He sat up. "Whew. I think I've had enough of falling down pits for a while."

"You're lucky it wasn't lined with spikes," the thief smiled. "You know, Bladehaft, I didn't think you'd last this long. I guess you're tougher than I thought."

The fighter bowed mockingly. "You wound me sore, madam."

They made their way back to the octagonal room and took the southern tunnel. This for fifty yards before suddenly ending.

Again they searched for secret door, but could find none. Exasperated, they retraced their steps, and took the southeastern passage.

This twisting tunnel took them to a vast cavern. To their right, a waterfall spilled into a placid stream before them, which meandered out of sight to their right. Green, phosphorescent lichen grew along the walls bounding the stream, bathing the area in an eerie, green light. They stood on a rocky shelf that ran the northern length of the chasm.

"Now we are getting somewhere!" Ganth cried.

"Maybe," said Deft. "If this stream goes anywhere."

He held Cinder close to the water. It was clear, and only one to two feet deep. The bottom of the stream was smooth sand and fine gravel.

The fighter jumped into the water and sloshed around, moving to the far side of the chasm. The depth of the water remained relatively the same.

"There's not much of a current," Deft reported. "We should explore downstream."

The others assented, and they all plunged into the cold waters. Twix and Runt were submerged up to their chest, and were soon shivering. They clutched their friends' cloaks or arms, for if anyone were to be washed downstream, it would be them, the smallest and lightest members of the party.

They sloshed through the stream. The depth varied, between one and three feet. When they got to the deep areas, Twix climbed up Gareth's back, and Bloom picked up Runt, carrying him like she would a small child.

They passed five rocky shelves as they followed the stream, and after about a furlong, they turned a corner and saw a large cavern about thirty yards ahead to their left. A small humanoid figure stood near the river, leaning on a spear.

It was only about the size of Twix and Runt, and looked like a small bipedal dragon with no wings. It had red scales and a dragon's tail, with white horns protruding from its head. In an alcove set into the rocky wall, two other creatures lay napping.

Both parties were surprised. Deft had enough presence of mind to extinguish the flames on his sword, but it was too late.

The creature hurried to his fellows, shaking them awake. All three ran south into the darkness.

"Great!" Deft snarled. "Kobolds. Why would escaping this maze be easy?"

"If we move downstream, they may not come after us," Bloom said.

"Unfortunately, that is not an option." Ganth pointed downstream. Thirty yards downriver, the cavern roof sloped down dramatically, below the level of the water. Anyone continuing that way would have to hold their breath, and they had no way of knowing how far they would have to swim until they found air again.

"Then it's either go back, or go forward," Bloom said. "They're just kobolds, after all."

The dwarf frowned. "Just kobolds. They breed like rats. We could be facing a tribe of between forty and four hundred!"

They all knew what they faced. Kobolds were small, but they were numerous. Related to dragons, they were fierce, territorial, resourceful, and full of hatred for every other race in the world. They were fond of setting traps and ambushes for their victims, and swarming them in great numbers. Those taken prisoner by the kobolds were tortured, killed, and eaten.

Bloom turned to the goblin. "Runt, do you have any good spells left?"

The magic-user glanced up at her and gulped, his eyes blinking and watering. "I am afraid not. I have used up my Web and Stinking Cloud spells for the day."

"I say we at least try," said Twix. "See how many there are. If there are too many, we can always run back upstream."

"With four hundred kobolds at our backs," the cleric grumbled.

"I agree with Twix," said the fighter.

"So do I," Bloom said.

"And I," said the goblin.

Ganth glanced at his cousin, who nodded his head. "I also agree with the bard."

Just then, they heard the sound of a war horn echoing from deep inside the cavern.


	13. Chapter 12 (Captives of the Kobolds)

"Well, that's done it," Deft said. "Do we go back or do we go forward?"

"Forward," the cleric snarled. "The bard is right. If we are outnumbered, we can retreat. Hopefully, if we have to fight these lizards, they will flee once we cut a few of them down."

The party prepared for a fight, and hurried downstream, stepping out into the cavern. They couldn't see further than forty feet into the darkness. Somewhere further on, they heard the yipping of many kobolds.

"This might not be good," Deft muttered.

"Just keep moving," Ganth snarled.

They marched forward, Deft and Ganth in the lead, Twix and Gareth behind, and Runt and Bloom in the rear. The cave ran for ten yards south, and two tunnels branched off it to the right and the left. The yipping was coming from the right.

"Should we try to move around them? Take the left tunnel?" Bloom asked.

"Not yet," said Ganth. "If there are not too many to fight, we may be able to take a kobold prisoner and get him to show us the way out."

"If there is one," Bloom said.

The yipping of the kobolds suddenly stopped.

"Are they gone?" Deft wondered.

The dwarf snorted. "Not likely. They are waiting to ambush us. Be wary."

They took the right-hand passage, watching the walls and ceilings. Bloom and Ganth took the lead, checking for traps. The going was slow, but after twenty yards, they saw another tunnel opening into the passage from the left. Further ahead, about thirty yards away, they noticed dull red light flickering ahead of them. They also felt the temperature rise inside the corridor.

The passage widened out, and they found themselves in a large cavern that was split by a twenty foot wide crevasse, with three crude stone bridges spanning it. The light and the heat were coming from the crevasse.

They approached cautiously. On the far side of the cave, they could see that a tunnel led out of its southwestern edge.

They glanced down into the crevasse. A hundred yards below, a river of molten lava flowed sluggishly across the floor of the chasm, from east to west. The temperature in the cave was nearly unbearable.

"That explains the steam vents topside," said Ganth. "The Hill is an active volcano."

They all eyed the crude bridges. They were only three feet wide at the most.

"Wow!" Twix cried. "That lava is amazing! Look at it glow! I'll bet if I threw something down there, the heat would vaporize it! Watch! I'll throw some iron rations..."

The dwarf cut him off. "We do not have time for shenanigans. Let us cross this chasm and continue on our way."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that," Deft grinned weakly. The dwarf noticed he was shaking.

"What is the matter, Bladehaft? Are you afraid of heights?"

"Not so much the height, but the _fall_ from the height is what worries me."

"The bridges seem wide and sturdy enough. The lava below seems stable. There is nothing to fear."

The fighter waved the dwarf on. "Then by all means, you can go first."

They decided to cross using all three bridges, two people per bridge, just in case they weren't as stable as the dwarf thought. Twix and Deft took the one in the middle, Ganth and Gareth the one on the right, and Bloom and Runt the one to the left.

The going was slow. No one wanted to make a misstep and fall. The heat from below blasted up at them like a dwarfish furnace. They all started sweating profusely.

Even though it was only a twenty foot journey, Deft shook the entire way, trying to keep his eyes on his footing and ignore the three hundred foot drop into the searing lava below. They had all just neared the edge of the bridges, when a hidden door suddenly popped open in the rock face near the left-hand bridge. Kobolds poured out, yipping and brandishing their spears and swords.

Here was the ambush, Deft thought. He also thought how convenient it was for the kobolds that they were still standing on the bridges.

By the time the last kobold darted out of the secret door, there were more than two dozen of them. They ran to the edge of the crevasse, and let loose with a volley of spears.

"Duck!" Ganth yelled, and they all dropped to the ground, clutching their heads. Spears whistled overhead, some striking the bridge, most of them missing their marks completely and falling down into the crevasse. Twix and Bloom cried out in pain, they had both been grazed.

"Run!" The cleric yelled, and they all got to their feet and ran for their lives. Those few seconds were the most terrifying seconds Deft had ever experienced. Here he was, running across a narrow stone bridge over a river of lava, with spears flying at his back from behind.

He reached the end of the bridge, and would have blown a sigh of relief. But the kobolds weren't content with merely chasing the intruders away. Yipping in their native tongue, they came charging across the bridges after them.

Deft, Bloom, and Runt soon outdistanced the dwarfs and the bard, who lagged behind due to their short legs. They came out into the river cavern, and Deft continued running straight, parallel to the rear wall of the cave. They entered the other passage, their legs pumping, even though none of them had any idea where this tunnel led.

Twix glanced behind to see the kobolds surging behind them. Kobolds were swift runners, despite their small stature. They were slowly gaining, and would soon overtake the bard and the dwarfs.

"Help us!" Twix cried. "They're overtaking us!"

Deft glanced back. He knew if he stopped to pick one of them up, he would never escape the kobolds, as the weight of bard or dwarf would weigh him down.

The fighter realized then that they couldn't all escape. If the kobolds caught any of them, they would most likely take them prisoner and torture them for a few days before killing them. That would give the free members of the party time to plan a rescue. Deft hated to do it, but he kept on running, hoping that he was right in assuming the lizards would take the dwarfs and the halfling prisoner, and not kill them outright.

The kobolds surged over the dwarfs and the bard, leaping onto their backs and taking them down by sheer numbers. This gave the other three members of the party a little extra time, as the kobolds began tripping and falling all over each other. Most of them continued the pursuit, leaving enough of their tribe behind to deal with the prisoners.

The tunnel suddenly branched up ahead.

"Go right!" Deft cried, picking a direction at random. He hoped and prayed this passage didn't stop at a dead end.

They ran into a large network of caverns, then passed into a narrow tunnel that split ahead of them. Deft chose the right-hand way again. He glanced back to see if the kobolds were gaining on them.

When he turned back around, his heart sank. Before them, loomed a craggy cliff, towering fifty feet in the air. It was over. But Deft wasn't going down without a fight.

They reached the cliff, and Bloom started to climb up its jagged face.

"Wait!" Runt cried. "I'm going to make you invisible!"

The goblin pulled out a hunk of acacia gum from a pouch and chanted a spell. He touched Bloom's leg, and the thief suddenly disappeared. As the kobolds closed in, their yipping grew to a frenzied pitch. They slowed their pace, waving their spears and swords, knowing their prey was trapped and had nowhere to go.

Deft glanced at the goblin, who had a potion in his hand. He gulped it down, and he disappeared as well, leaving in his wake a yellowish cloud of vapor that drifted up the cliff face.

The fighter turned to face the kobolds. So this was it. The thief and the goblin had escaped, saving their own hides with no regard for his. He realized he shouldn't have expected anything different.

"Well, come on, you scaly little bastards!" the fighter yelled, wildly waving his flaming sword. The kobolds began to growl, and they suddenly surged forward, trying to overcome the fighter and pin him to the ground. Deft struck out, slashing one kobold's head clean off, but the others crashed into him, the sheer weight of their bodies pinning him up against the cliff. His sword fell from his hand, and he began fighting with fists and teeth, doing anything to get away. Clawed, scaly hands grabbed his arms and legs and pulled him down. And then something smashed down onto his head, and he sank down into darkness.

Bloom continued to climb up the cliff face, even though the goblin's spell had rendered her invisible. She saw Runt dissipate into a yellow cloud, and watched with an ache in her heart as the kobolds swarmed over Deft.

A rock suddenly came sailing down from the top of the cliff, striking the fighter on the head. The kobolds bore him down, then lifted his inert body and carried him away, taking his flaming sword with them. The yipping and the light slowly faded away, until the thief was left in total darkness. Goblins, dwarfs, and kobolds could all see in the dark, but not humans. But even though her sight was gone, the thief relied on her other senses. She could hear kobolds above her, and the top of the cliff, two distinct voices. She only knew the Dwarf and Goblin tongues, not that of the kobolds, so she had no idea what they were saying.

Climbing a wall in the dark was nothing to the thief, who had grown up doing just the same. Runt had cast his invisibility spell on her before, so she knew that it would remain in effect until she physically attacked someone or something. She knew that Runt would stick around. They'd never abandoned each other, and they weren't about to start now.

She climbed slowly and carefully, trying to stay quiet, using her hands and feet to find the best way up the craggy face. The kobolds continued talking, which further masked any noise she made. Slowly she made her way upwards, until she finally reached the top. She pulled herself over onto solid ground, moving carefully. The kobolds were only five or so feet away. She couldn't see them, and they couldn't see her, but they could probably smell her. She had no time to waste.

She slowly got to her feet. Her Boots of Elvenkind would make her footsteps silent. She moved around behind the kobolds, and suddenly rushed forward, arms wide out. She struck two scaly bodies and hurled them forward with all her strength. She heard their shrieks all the way down that ended in the sound of their bodies smashing down on the rocky floor.

All was quiet now. She lay against the tunnel wall, taking out her water skin and drinking her fill. She sat still, her short sword in hand, wondering what in the world she should do now. Runt was bound to show up any minute. The two could continue on their way, find a way out of this nightmare, and leave the Hill and Fort Gaston far behind. She didn't owe any allegiance to Sir Ganth, the weird halfling, or Deft. Life wasn't fair. You won some, and you lost some. Although, she'd started to become a little fond of the group. Quickly she put the thought out of her mind. Sentimentality was a weakness. Caring for others was a weakness. It wasn't her problem. They had been stupid enough to get themselves caught. They could get themselves out of the situation.

But then the thief thought about the reward that she would never get from the cleric, and she frowned.

"I suppose I'm going to have to try to rescue those idiots, then," she whispered softly. "They are going to owe me, that's for sure."

She lay her head back against the cool stone, trying to think of a plan. Nothing would come to her. She couldn't possibly fight thirty kobolds by herself. Runt was out of spells. He could rememorize them, but first he would need to get a good night's sleep. They didn't have any time to waste.

As she sat there wracking her brain, she suddenly caught a hint of a sound coming further down the tunnel. She froze. It sounded like someone or something trying to sneak up on her. She knew by now that the invisibility spell had dissipated once she'd thrown the two kobolds off the cliff. If it was a kobold, it had a distinct advantage over her.

She raised her sword, and called out boldly. "Who goes there?"

"Bloom?" The voice was squeaky and whiny at the same time. The thief grinned.

"Runt?"

She heard the goblin run towards her, and he enveloped her in a hug.

"Shh!" she cautioned. "Sit down with me. Are you okay?"

"Fine," the goblin whispered. "I drank that Potion of Gaseous Form the old women gave us."

"I'm glad you escaped, you rascal!"

"As am I. The question before us is do we rescue our companions, or leave them to their fate?"

The thief chuckled. "Well, I was going to just leave them, but then I remembered that we won't get our reward if Glintspear is dead. So we're going to have to try to rescue them, although I have no idea why. But don't tell them it's because of the reward. Let them think we're doing it out of the goodness of our hearts."

The goblin took her hand. "Come with me. A little further down is a side tunnel leading into a cave. We can hide there, out of sight of the kobolds, and plan the rescue."

Runt led her through the darkness and into the cave. They huddled against a wall, out of sight of the cavern entrance. The thief ate one of her healing raspberries, figuring she needed to be at the top of her game for this rescue attempt.

"I found something," the goblin whispered. "Or rather, it found me. For some reason, my darkvision doesn't work in this cave. It works everywhere else. The reasons for this are unknown to me. All I can think of is that someone has cast a permanent spell of darkness inside the cavern. Why someone would do that, I don't know."

"As long as it's not a danger, who cares?"

"My sentiments exactly. What I found is a corpse, most likely human. There is also a backpack, and inside it are three potions and two rolled-up pieces of parchment, most likely spells. Hopefully they are magic-user spells, otherwise they won't be any use to me."

"They won't be any use anyway," Bloom laughed. "Unless you can read magic scrolls using your darkvision!"

"Regrettably, I cannot. But if we returned to the stream, where the glowing fungus grows, I could read them there. I used my wand on these items. They are all magical. They may aid us in rescuing our friends. I sampled the potions. By taste, I determined that one of a Potion of Healing, and another a Potion of Invisibility. The third is something I have never tasted before, so I cannot identify it. These bottles are twice the normal size, also, so we may be able to get two uses out of each."

"Being invisible would help in the rescue for sure. All right. Since you need light to read those scrolls, let's go back to the stream. The only problem is how do we get you down that cliff face?"

"I certainly don't want to try to climb down! And we have no rope!"

"I know. You're probably going to have to just climb on my back and hang on. You don't weigh all that much."

The goblin wasn't happy about that arrangement, but he knew that if he tried to climb down the cliff by himself, he would fall.

They made their way cautiously back to the cliff. Bloom gave Runt her healing berries, then tossed her pack off the edge of the cliff. The only thing she had in there was a water skin and some rations, so she wasn't worried about the fall damaging them. The goblin climbed onto her back and held on for dear life, as the thief lowered herself over the edge of the cliff and began the climb down, in total darkness.

They made their way down slowly, but they made it without incident. They both drank half of the contents of the Potion of Invisibility, which tasted like cranberries, for some reason.

Runt led Bloom down the passageway, and after a minute or two, they found themselves back in the cavern they had entered when they left the stream.

Bloom felt the goblin grab her arm, and she stopped. She could barely hear the magic-user's whisper.

"There are five guards there now. You can sneak by them, but you can't read the scrolls. I can read the scrolls, but I don't have your magic boots and I am not trained in the art of moving silently."

"Then forget about the stream," the thief whispered back. "We'll head down to that lava crevasse. You should have enough light to be able to read those scrolls."

"I certainly hope these have had a Read Magic incantation cast upon them. Otherwise I won't be able to read them or invoke their magic. I don't have that spell memorized."

"Let's go and find out, then we can take it from there."

They made their way down the tunnel leading to the crevasse, and they could hear the sounds of the kobolds yipping as they got closer. They reached the crevasse, and stopped dead.

Most of the tribe, thirty strong, were clustered on the far side of the crevasse, close to the edge. In the center of the bridges stood their friends, the dwarfs on one and Deft and Twix on the other two. They were bereft of all their armor and weapons. Their hands were tied, and they stood in postures of defeat and fear. Six kobolds, armed with spears, stood at the ends of each bridge.

Bloom wondered frantically if they were too late.


	14. Chapter 13 (Quite the Rescue)

Taking his eyes of the horrible spectacle, Runt read the scrolls. Luckily for him, a magic-user had at one time cast the incantation on them that would allow him to decipher them. He quickly read them. They were both spells that he didn't have the power yet to cast from a spell book, Fireball and Phantasmal Force. If he tried to cast these spells by reading the scrolls, there was a small chance that the spell would either fizzle, or erupt in some unpredictable magical surge.

The goblin knew he had to take that chance.

A large kobold, most likely the chief, stood near the center bridge. He turned to his tribe and raised his hands. He held a short sword that gleamed in the reddish glow of the lava below. The tribe instantly quieted.

The chief turned back to the bridges, and began chanting, his arms still held up high.

"What is he saying?" Bloom asked the goblin, knowing that he spoke Kobold.

Runt's face fell. "He is offering them as a sacrifice to their god Thitanousus. The chosen six are going to walk out onto the bridges, and cast our friends into the lava."

Bloom felt helpless. What could the two of them possibly do to rescue their friends?

"One of these scrolls is a Fireball spell," the goblin said hastily. "I would have loved to inscribe it into my spell book, but I am going to cast it, and hopefully fry most of the tribe in one go."

The thief looked at him in alarm. "Make sure you don't fry our friends!"

"I won't."

The chief ended his chant, and the kobold warriors walked out onto the bridges, their spears held high, ready to stab at the captives and push them over the edge.

Bloom glanced at the goblin. "Runt, let's go with that spell!"

The magic-user began chanting, and Bloom palmed her two daggers. Runt pointed his finger at the kobolds, and a small globe of flame shot out from his hand. It streaked across the chasm and slammed into the middle of the kobold tribe. With a terrific roar, the fireball exploded, incinerating about half of the tribe, including the chief.

The kobolds screeched and yipped, falling over themselves as they ran in a complete panic southward into darkness. As they whirled around to see where the fireball had come from, Bloom launched her daggers at the kobolds on the bridges with the dwarfs and Deft. She hit one in the chest, the other in the throat. Both lizards shrieked and toppled over into the crevasse.

Bloom and Runt were visible now, since they had attacked. The last kobold launched his spear at the goblin, missing his head by inches. Bloom unsheathed her sword and moved in front of the magic-user, while Runt read another spell from his scroll. Two streaks of silver energy shot from his hand, swerving to avoid Bloom, and slamming into the kobold's chest. Without a word, he toppled off the bridge.

Realizing they were free, the dwarfs, Deft, and Twix made their way across the bridges. Bloom cut the bonds on their wrists.

The bard wrapped his arms around Bloom and then Runt. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I knew you'd come back! Ganth and Deft didn't believe it, but I did! I just knew it!"

Deft glanced at the thief. "Well, I…"

She held up a hand. "Save it. I don't blame you for thinking we would just up and leave you to die. But we didn't. But now's not the time for idle conversation. We need to get out of here."

"Agreed," said the dwarf. "We need our gear."

That meant crossing the bridges again, but they did so carefully. They passed by the smoking corpses of the kobolds, but Bloom stopped when she noticed something. Runt halted with her, while the others went on ahead.

"What is it?"

Bloom had already bent down next to the body of the chief. All the weapons of the other kobolds were burnt and ruined, except for the short sword the chief had held. It was untouched by the flames.

Runt pulled out his Wand of Magic Detection and recited the command words. The sword began to glow. Bloom reached out and touched it gingerly.

"It's not even warm!"

She picked up the sword and examined it. The workmanship was excellent, most likely dwarfish. She took her sword out of her scabbard, tossed it on the ground, and replaced it with the magical one.

"This adventure has been quite profitable for us," she laughed. "So many magic items just lying around for the taking!"

The thief and goblin hurried to catch up with the others, who had moved down a tunnel that ran southward out of the cavern. It

turned sharply to the left and entered a smaller cave with two other passages branching from it. They heard no sounds of the kobolds.

The dwarfs went into the cave, since they could see in the dark. Ganth's voice boomed out. "Cinder."

The sword burst into flame. The cavern was furnished with several heaps of straw, most likely bedding materials. At the northern end of the cave, a large kettle hung over a fire pit. The smell that emanated from it was nauseating. Of course, Twix had to go and have a look.

"Oh, gross!" he cried to the others. "There are fish heads floating in this! Ugh! I'll give anyone who drinks an entire mug of this stuff ten gold pieces!"

"Quiet, you ninny!" Ganth barked. "Everyone be quiet!"

Bloom and Runt stood guard while the others located their armor and their gear. They suited up, and after a minute, they were all ready to go.

Deft caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a young kobold squatting behind one of the hay mounds. He walked over to the creature, who cowered in terror.

"What have we here?" Ganth said softly as he came up beside the kobold.

"Just a child," Deft said.

Ganth said something sharply in the Kobold tongue, and the creature began yipping and pointing to the south.

The dwarf turned to regard the others. "He says there is a way out, and it's through that tunnel that leads to the south."

"Thank the gods!" Bloom said. "Freedom at last!"

"If the little bugger is telling the truth," Ganth muttered.

Deft shrugged. "Why lie? I'm sure he wants us out of here as much as we want out of here."

"Then let us proceed," said the cleric.

"What about the kobold?" Bloom asked.

The dwarf frowned. "Leave him. He is nothing more than a pathetic wretch."

They moved into the southern tunnel, which turned east after forty paces, and ran straight to a set of stone stairs that had been carved into an upward-sloping part of the passage. The stairs were narrow, but sturdy.

The tunnel continued onwards, with several corridors and caverns branching off to the left and right. Ganth continued straight on, and after about thirty yards, they entered the southern end of a large cave.

On the cavern wall to their right stood a rectangular stone door. The dwarfs managed to pull it open, and beyond lay a small, round cavern.

The light of Deft's flaming sword fell upon a grisly sight, a skeleton lying face down on the floor. He was clad in plate mail armor, which gleamed in the light of Cinder's flame. On his back rested a quiver of arrows, and at his side lay a long sword and a broken long bow.

They approached cautiously. Skeletons were known to sometimes be animated. Their favorite trick was to pretend they were just skeletal remains, then they would leap up to the attack.

This skeleton proved to be just that. Runt waved his birch wand over the man's remains. Five of the arrows, the plate armor, and the long sword began to glow.

Ganth's eyes widened and lingered on the armor. "That is armor is beautiful! What workmanship! Obviously created by a dwarf."

"Then take it," Deft said. "None of us wear plate mail."

Ganth and Gareth reverently stripped the skeleton of its gear, then lay it gently back on the floor.

Twix examined the magic arrows, and grinned up at Deft. "We can split these!"

The fighter smiled. "Take them all, Twix. I don't mind."

"Who gets the sword?" Bloom asked.

Gareth stepped forth. "If nobody else wants it, I will claim it."

The dwarf picked up the sword and admired its workmanship. He was surprised the see dwarfish runes carved along both sides of the blade.

"These runes name this sword Drakedoom."

Deft glanced at him. "Drakedoom. I've heard about that sword. Its last owner was the great warrior Ober Alus."

The fighter looked sadly down at the skeleton. "This must be him."

Ganth removed his father's splint armor, and with Gareth's help, dressed himself in the gleaming plate mail. First he put on the chain mail shirt that was the base of the armor. Gareth buckled on his breastplate, added the epaulettes on his shoulders and the elbow guards, and finished with the tassets to protect his upper thigh, and the greaves to protect his shins.

Gareth put on Ganth's splint armor, and the cleric looked at him appraisingly.

"It fits you well, nephew. I think it may be time to pass it down to you. It won't be long before we journey to Blackburrow, and enroll you in the Order."

Ganth went to the western wall of the cave, put his hand on an outcropping of rock, and turned it. A rectangular secret door opened inward before him, and the dwarf turned and bowed at the others.

"This way, my friends. There is a long tunnel that runs up to the surface, if what the kobold told me is true."

"Let's hope it is," Bloom muttered. "You know you can't trust those little bastards."

They entered a narrow, winding passage that ended at a blank wall. Again Ganth searched for the correct outcropping, and twisted it. Another secret door opened, leading into what they assumed was a large cavern. They could only see forty feet into it, and something glimmered on the floor at the edge of the Cinder's firelight.

It was a pile of coins of all types, copper, silver, electrum, gold, and platinum, mixed with gems and jewelry.

Sticking out of the edge of this pile of treasure was an iron rod with a metal ball at its end.

Bloom pointed. "The Rod of Cancellation. That's what the old ladies are after! We're going to be rich!"

The thief rushed out to the treasure pile. No one followed her, and Deft had a sudden feeling that she shouldn't do it. He tried to call to her as quietly as possible, but she paid him no heed.

Bloom knelt at the pile of treasure. It was sizeable, and this was just one small edge of it.

"Bring that light in here so I can see!" she cried.

"Quiet!" Ganth hissed. "Get back here, woman! If there's a ton of treasure in here, there's most likely a guardian!"

Deft looked at the dwarf in alarm. "The kobold didn't mention anything about treasure, did he?"

The cleric shook his head. "He did not. Which is why I am worried."

Bloom pulled off her pack, stuffing it with coins, jewels and gems, topping it off with the Rod of Cancellation. She had just turned to walk back to the others when something huge moved beyond the light of Deft's flaming sword.

"Get back here now!" the fighter cried, sensing danger.

Suddenly, they all heard a great roaring and bellowing coming from behind him. They all instinctively ran out into the cavern, and Ganth pushed the secret door shut.

"What in the Nine Hells was that?" the dwarf cried.

"Allow me to explain," sounded a deep, loud voice. Light suddenly blazed from a point near the ceiling, illuminating the entire cavern. Deft caught a quick glance of two tunnels exiting the cave on the far side. But his gaze didn't linger there long.

The light emanated from a globe of light above the head of a huge creature. Red scales gleamed in the bright light as the giant lizard turned its huge bulk around to face the intruders. Its eyes burned like fire, and it opened its maw, displaying long, sharp teeth. It seemed to smile at them. It was a dragon.


	15. Chapter 14 (The Dragon Thitanousus)

"Welcome to my humble abode, my heroes!" the beast boomed, his eyes staring at them each in turn. "What have we here? Two humans, two dwarfs, a goblin and a halfling. Am I right in assuming you are some sort of adventuring party? I have been asleep for decades. It has been a long time since my loyal subjects brought me a tasty treat."

The six all stood frozen, staring up at the dragon with their mouths agape. All Deft could do was think, this is bad. This is bad. This is bad…

The dragon crouched down and stuck its head forward, resting it on the ground mere feet from the adventurers. No one moved. They all knew that if the dragon breathed fire on them, they were all dead.

"I wouldn't exactly call us a snack, you see," Twix said, striding forward a bit. "We're really sorry to burst into your lair like this, you know, without knocking or anything. We're really just trying to get…"

"Silence!" the dragon roared. Twix's eyes widened, and his mouth snapped shut.

"Did I ask you a question, little turd?" the dragon snarled. "Speak when you're spoken to, and you'll live a lot longer."

"Well…actually…you…um…did ask us a question, on whether or not we are adventurers. Which we are."

"Twix, shut up!" Deft hissed, never taking his eyes off the dragon.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the dragon boomed. "I am Thitanousus the Terrible! I am a god to these miserable kobolds!"

"And I am Twix Relkin…"

The dragon glared at the bard. "I don't care who you are! You are less than nothing in my sight, you little turds! I'll bet you've come to try to steal my treasure."

"Please, my lord," Deft said, his voice shaking, "we just want to leave. The kobolds told us there was a way out of these caverns…"

"There is. Through one of these tunnels. But you'll never get there alive."

While the dragon talked, Gareth had moved back to lean against the secret door, and he tried to open it without giving away to the dragon what he was doing. But it was futile. The door was closed fast. There would be no escape that way.

"I am inclined to let you leave this place," the dragon grinned, "if you answer me one riddle. If you cannot answer, then you will be my breakfast."

"Since you leave us no other choice," Ganth cried. "Ask us your riddle!"

"Very well. Let me see. I want to make it a good one." The dragon seemed to think for a few moments. "Aha! I have it. Stronger than any beast, rougher than any sea. Steadier than a favorable wind, and of me none shall be free. What is the answer? You have five seconds."

The party wracked their brains to come up with the answer, but no one spoke as the seconds ticked down. When they had one second left, Runt suddenly blurted out the answer.

"The Earth!"

The dragon's face drooped in disappointment. "Drat! Too easy. And I thought goblins were stupid. They certainly taste terrible! Very well, you guessed my riddle, but the game is not yet ended. I will let five of you go. The one remaining will be my snack. You all need to decide who that one shall be, and the decision must be unanimous. Begin the discussion."

Deft was terrified of this monstrous beast, but he also felt a sense of welling indignation rising in his soul. The dragon was toying with their lives, as if they meant nothing!

"There is no discussion," Ganth said wearily. "We are not going to play your game, dragon. We are leaving. If you intend to stop us, then do so."

The dragon reared up to its full height, and roared with all his might. They adventurers cowered and covered their ears. But the dragon didn't attack. He stood still, staring down at them with his terrible eyes.

"Uncle, don't," Gareth said, grabbing the cleric's arm. He spun him around to face him. Gareth's eyes were full of fear, but also calm acceptance.

"Tell them all to run, and keep running. I will buy you some time."

Ganth's heart lurched, and he could hardly believe what he was hearing. "No, my nephew! Do not do this! If we are to die, then let us all perish together! We…"

Gareth's grip tightened on his uncle's hand, and his eyes bore into his uncle's eyes. "Don't worry about me. The Mother will take me gently in her arms. She will soothe me and heal my wounds. Everything will be okay. I love you, uncle. Don't ever forget that. If you don't do this, you will all die. Now run. Do it!"

Ganth remained rooted to his spot. Gareth sprang into action. The dragon saw him move, and snaked his head downward. The dwarf threw his hammer with all his might, and it slammed into one of the dragon's eyes. The beast roared and shook his head in pain.

"GO!" Gareth shoved his uncle so hard that he nearly fell to his knees. The others ran, and Ganth followed them, hating himself for doing so. Maybe Gareth would escape. He tried not to think of anything else except getting out of these tunnels alive.

The others reached the tunnel and disappeared inside. Behind Ganth, the dragon roared as Gareth shouted a challenge.

The cleric stopped and looked back, torn between fleeing and dying beside his nephew. But the dragon took that choice out of his hands.

Gareth unsheathed the sword Drakedoom, and charged the dragon with a mighty cry of defiance. Thitanousus' head snapped downward, his jaws agape. He snatched up the dwarf and bit down with all his might. Gareth screamed in agony as the sharp teeth tore through his body.

The dragon shook his head like a dog worrying a bone, then split the dwarf out. Gareth landed hard on the stone floor of the cave, the sword Drakedoom flying from his grasp. Ganth thought he was dead, but then saw his nephew slowly moving, trying to get up.

Ganth was about to go to his aid, when the dragon lowered his head and breathed a gout of flame onto the dwarf. The cleric turned away, not wanting to see his nephew incinerated.

The dragon roared, snapping his head around to the escape tunnel.

Ganth turned and ran as fast as he could. Luckily for him, his new magical plate armor was much lighter than normal due to its magical enhancements. The dwarf wept as he ran, almost hoping that the dragon caught him and killed him.

The roaring and bellowing of the monster sounded from behind him, and the cleric expected searing flame to envelop him at any second. But the fire didn't come, and the dragon wasn't gaining on him. If anything, it seemed that he was falling behind.

The tunnel that led to the surface was barely wide enough for the dragon to pass through, and there were some areas where he had to squeeze himself though in order to pass. The tunnel was also not high, so Thitanousus couldn't run full out. His legs were bent, and he moved in a sort of half-run, half crawl.

The five ran for their lives, and after four minutes of going all out, they were starting to tire. But ahead of them they saw daylight filtering through a screen of vegetation.

They burst through the ivy vines at the cave exit and into the trees. They immediately ran for cover, hiding behind trees or in the thick underbrush.

With a terrific roar, the dragon smashed through the obscuring vegetation, and flew sharply upwards. The party could hear the flap of his huge wings and his occasional bellow.

Deft found himself cowering in a bed of ferns with Runt. He glanced over at him. "Are you okay?"

The goblin wheezed, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't speak.

They waited in silence, not daring to even move, hoping that the treetops above and the vegetation would hide them from the dragon's eyes. The roars and bellows of the beast receded, but still they remained where they were.

After twenty minutes, they dared to find each other and gather together.

Ganth's eyes were red with weeping. Deft moved and sat next to him.

"I am so sorry, Ganth."

The dwarf glanced at him and nodded. "Damn fool. It is so unfair. He survived the hobgoblins only to die at the hands of the dragon."

"Life itself is unfair," the fighter said, but he had no further words of wisdom.

"I am going back," the dwarf said.

"Back? Into the dragon's lair?"

"Yes. I want to recover my nephew's body, or what is left of it. I do not want any of you to come with me. If the dragon returns when I am still inside, leave without me."

"Are you sure you don't want us to…"

"What would it matter?" the dwarf growled. "Do you all want the privilege of dying beside me? No. I go alone."

The others said nothing.

Ganth stood up and looked down at Deft. "May I borrow your cloak?"

"Certainly, my friend. Be safe, and hurry back."

The cleric nodded absently, turned, and walked back into the cave.

"That was stupid," Bloom said. "If his nephew is dead, what does it matter if he recovers the body?"

Deft glared at her. "I am sure it matters a great deal to Ganth, and his family."

The thief shrugged, and leaned back against a tree.

About forty minutes, later, Ganth returned, bearing the body of Gareth wrapped in Deft's green cloak. Strapped to the dwarf's pack were his father's splint armor and Drakedoom. Ganth had not even considered the dragon's mound of treasure. In normal circumstances, a dwarf coming across a hoard of that size and value would have thought he'd died and gone to heaven, but Ganth didn't care. Recovering his nephew's body was more important to him.

Gareth had been like a son to him. Ten years prior, Ganth's brother Quartz and his own son Agate had been killed by hobgoblins. After the tragedy, Ganth had taken his nephew under his wing, trying to be a father to the young dwarf. They had been as close as father and son. And now he was dead.

"We should leave this place," Runt said weakly. He was still shaking in fright, his yellow eyes wide and watering fiercely.

"I think we should wait until night," Bloom said.

The dwarf scowled at her. "Why? The dragon is gone."

"We don't know that for a fact," Twix said. "He might be hiding somewhere, just waiting for us to come out into the open."

Bloom agreed reluctantly. "At least let us move further away from the dragon's lair."

They all agreed to that, and made their way southward for half a mile before finding a suitable campsite.

As they waited for nightfall, Twix told them all about the Righteous Rovers.

"I am inviting you all to join us," the halfling smiled. "We're only three in number now. We used to be a lot bigger, but we lost a couple members over the past few years. There was the elf ranger Illyon, Xaryon the magic-user, and the dwarf Thorbyat. The only ones left other than me are Sara Bootblack, and Gurp. Sara's a member of the Most Holy Order of the Silver Staff. That's a group that is made up mostly of undead hunters. Those are paladin's who have taken holy vows to hunt and destroy undead.

"Sara's real nice. She's pretty fanatical about destroying the undead. Some would even say obsessed. It's too bad about what happened to her, though."

"What happened?" Deft asked.

"Well, it was five years ago. She was twenty-five, and had just been considered as a candidate to be inducted into the Order. They sent her out on a quest to rid an evil tomb of its undead. You see, every member of the Order has to go on a quest before they can be inducted. From what she told me, she ran into a ghost in the tombs. They're pretty rare, but dangerous. Well, this ghost grabbed onto her, and their touch actually ages you! It aged her about twenty years. She was born twenty-five years ago, but physically she is forty-five! She used to have beautiful black hair, but now it's snow white from the touch of the ghost."

"That's unfortunate," Deft said.

"Oh, she's used to it. She's thankful that she even survived the encounter."

"I'm sure there are not many who can make that claim."

"Now I'll tell you about Gurp. He's a half-ogre, which is rare enough, but he's also a ranger and a druid! Probably the only one in the Five Cities! He's nice, too. A real gentle giant. Unless you piss him off. Then he goes nuts!"

"That's an unusual group," Deft said, "but I'm in if you want me."

"I do!"

"Count me and Runt in as well," Bloom grinned. "It doesn't sound like too bad a life, being a tomb raider."

The bard turned to the dwarf. "What about you, Sir Ganth?"

"I suppose I shall join your group, if there is a paladin in it. I have heard of Sara Bootblack, and I briefly made her acquaintance once. She is a steadfast and virtuous woman. This will be good for me. I fear that I have become a bit lazy in my questing. My higher ups are always reprimanding me for not going out among the Five Cities and helping people. This will make them happy."

"Then it's settled!" Twix cried. "Welcome to the Righteous Rovers!"

They waited until night fell, then made their way eastwards, down the slopes of the Hill. After two miles, they reached the river, and began the southward trek to the clearing where they had hidden their boat. They kept to the trees, and after another mile, they reached the meadow.

As the got the boat ready, Ganth kept looking up into the night sky. "If the dragon is waiting to ambush us, this would be the perfect spot."

"I know," Deft said. "But it's either that or we go forty miles north to the Verdun Bridge."

"Let's just get it over with," Bloom said. "I'm tired."

"We all are," Deft said.

They decided to risk it. They took their positions in the boat, and Ganth took the oars while Deft pushed the boat out before climbing in. They headed across the river, keeping anxious eyes on the starry sky above. Hopefully Thitanousus wasn't the type of dragon that held a grudge. Deft could see Fort Gaston, its walls lit by torches. The fort was still standing. The fighter had been afraid that it wouldn't be, that the dragon would have taken out his ire on the small settlement.

They reached the eastern shore, and praised their luck. Ganth said it wasn't luck, it was the will of the Mother.

They made their way to the gates, which were shut for the night, but the guards knew Ganth and let them pass. Deft was about to head for the Lion's Den, when Ganth invited them all to the Mother's House, the Temple of Amandine. They all accepted. The dwarf brought them inside the beautiful temple, and they all felt a sense of peace come over them like a favorite blanket.

Deft suddenly realized how tired he was. It had been an eventful day. Ganth showed them to their rooms, tiny cubicles with a fireplace, bed, table and chair. He wished them all good night, then went to attend to the body of his cousin. He knew what he had to do, and he wasn't happy about it. He had to tell Gareth's mother Beryl that her son was dead. And then he had a funeral to plan. He also had to break the news to Cullen's family.

Before she went to sleep, Bloom dumped the coins, gems, and jewels from her pack and sorted the coins into five piles. The gems and jewels would need to be appraised and sold, but there were no jewelers in Fort Gaston. The thief reminded herself to ask Ganth if he would buy them from her so they could split the wealth. The dwarf was rich, after all, and he was a dwarf. They loved that kind of stuff.

The coins didn't amount to much once divided five ways, but Bloom was certain they'd a lot of gold for the gems and jewels. She went to bed soon after, dreaming pleasant dreams.

Deft slept fitfully. The bard and the goblin fell asleep rather quickly. Ganth stayed up all night, grieving for his nephew.

The next morning, a temple guard came to Ganth's chambers, telling him that two old women were here to see him. The dwarf roused his friends, and they met with Rosalinda and Rosabella to seal the deal they had made.

The sisters, of course, wanted the Rod of Cancellation, which Runt had estimated to be worth eleven thousand gold pieces. The sisters acted like they were mortified over this offer, and countered with three thousand. Ganth snorted and said he could come down to eight thousand, and that was it. The sisters countered with four, saying that was the highest they would go. Ganth was about to end the bargaining, but the sisters increased their price to five thousand. After much hemming and hawing, the dwarf grudgingly dropped his price down to seventy-five hundred. The sisters went up to six thousand. Ganth countered with seven. They met at sixty-five hundred, and shook on it. The Rod of Cancellation was theirs.

Bloom was extremely angry at the dwarf, insisting he could have gotten the full value from the old women.

"I have been making deals like this for over a hundred years, young lady. They would have walked, and then we would get nothing. Be glad we got what we did."

The thief grumbled about it, but after calculating her share of the money at thirteen hundred golds (plus one hundred and twenty five from Ganth's reward), she couldn't stay in a sour mood.

The companions stayed at the temple, and attended the funerals of both Gareth Ironhand and Cullen Defilch. The families of both the boys thanked them for risking their own lives to learn the fate of the two. Deft was heartbroken for the families, as were Twix and Runt. Bloom shed not one tear. Ganth welled up several times during the services, but tried to keep his emotions in check.

They left Fort Gaston three days later, heading north to the city of Verdun, Deft's homeland. From there, they would take the Dinard Trail that ran southwest, and skirted the southern edge of the Merecage, the great swamp around which the Five Cities had grown.

The day after they left, a few hours before noon, a man came into the Lion's Den Inn. He had an unsavory look, Norbert the innkeep thought. At first he thought the person was a goblin, but then he realized that he was too tall to be one. Human, then. Or human mixed with goblin. The man was clad in a gray cloak with the hood pulled up around his face. He wore plate armor beneath the cloak, and a mace hung at his side. Norbert didn't like the look of him.

The man walked up to the bar, and sat down on one of the stools.

"What's your poison," the innkeep said sourly.

"I am not here for your food and drink," the man said in a sinister voice. "I am looking for someone."

Norbert looked him in the eye. "Who?"

The man grinned, revealing teeth that were filed to sharp points. "The party of Deft Bladehaft. Twix Relkin. Bloom. Runt. Ganth. Are they in town?"

Norbert knew exactly who he was asking about, but he had a feeling that this man had evil intent towards his friend Ganth and his new companions.

"Don't know," said the innkeep. "What do you want them for? And what is your name…"

"My name has no bearing in this matter," the man snarled. "There is a bounty on their heads."

Norbert scowled. "Bounty? For what?"

"Thievery and murder. I leave you these. I would appreciate it if you would post them in your inn."

The man pulled some rolled up pieces of parchment from his belt pouch. He lay them on the bar and rolled them out.

Norbert glanced at the paper, then turned an unfriendly eye on the hooded man. "I don't know what's become of them."

The man grinned again, his eyes taking on a dangerous look. "You will, soon enough, when you hear tales of how I slaughtered them and hung their heads on pikes around the walls of my monastery. Good day."

Nobert snorted, glaring at the man as he left the inn. That guy was bad news. The innkeep took up the bounty notices and threw them in the fire.

 _BOUNTY NOTICE_

 _DATED THE 25_ _TH_ _DAY OF FIVEMONTH_

 _There is a bounty of five hundred gold pieces per head on the following persons. They are known to frequent the cities of Verdun and Evreux._

 _The following persons are wanted for thievery and murder and are to be delivered ALIVE to the guards at the gates of the fort of Guido Gaston._

 _DEF BLADEHAFT – human male, Long black hair. Carries a sword and a bow._

 _BLOOME – human female. Red hair in a crew cut. Scar across face. Wears leather._

 _RUNT – goblin wizard. Wears peasant clothing._

 _TWIX WELKIN – halfling minstrel. Blonde hair. Carries a bandora._

 _GANT GLINSPEAR – dwarf. Black hair. Member of the Order of the Green Dragon._


End file.
